[Boys of the Zodiac 10] Capricorn; Forgotten Faces by Vivien Dean

APRICORN

: F

ORGOTTEN

ACES

…I kept my eyes away from the front door. Until I sealed the

threshold, I needed to play this straight. He couldn’t have an avenue of
escape once I started, and I couldn’t use my magic so blatantly in front
of him. When people witness the unknown, they have adrenaline
spikes. Those spikes would prolong my work, and I couldn’t make this
more difficult than it already was.

“I got myself all turned around out there,” I said. “And then my car

died. Go figure.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Signal sucks up here, too. You

probably tried to call someone, right?”

“I would’ve if I hadn’t noticed I didn’t have any bars.”
“Where is it you’re trying to get to?”
“A friend’s got a cabin a hundred miles or so north. He offered to

let me crash there for a little while.”

His gaze lingered on mine. “Lucky friend.”
The hinted invitation of his handshake blossomed into more than

vague allusion. Leandro was interested, as interested in me as my body
seemed to be in his. I hadn’t imagined that shock of attraction, and he
clearly wasn’t going to ignore it.

I don’t fuck my assignments. It’s never in anyone’s best interest.

But getting personal with this guy might just help fill in some of the
holes I had about who he was. This one time, it might be strategic to
follow through on my desires.

Plus, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to feel him break beneath

me. He’d fight back, which would make success all that much
sweeter…

LSO

IVIEN

EAN

Blood Of Souls

Born To Be Wild

Bridge Over Troubled Water

Crave

Interlude

Ruby Red Rebels

Still, Life

What We May Be

Wranglers (The Collection)

Wranglers: Discovery

Wranglers: Judgment
Wranglers: Voir Dire

Wranglers: The Defense Rests

Boys Of The Zodiac Series

Aries: Riddle Me Wicked

Cancer: Penny Candles

Libra: Outlined In Ink

CAPRICORN:

FORGOTTEN FACES

VIVIEN DEAN

MBER

UILL

RESS

, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

APRICORN

: F

ORGOTTEN

ACES

MBER

UILL

RESS

OOK

This book is a work of fiction.

All names, characters, locations, and incidents are products of the

author’s imagination, or have been used fictitiously.

Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, locales,

or events is entirely coincidental.

Amber Quill Press, LLC

http://www.AmberQuill.com

No portion of this book may be transmitted or

reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in

writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief

excerpts used for the purposes of review.

ISBN 978-1-61124-039-9

Layout and Formatting provided by: Elemental Alchemy

PUBLISHED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

Capricorn: Stable, determined, and practical.

A Capricorn might be cautious to love, but once he does,

he’s completely committed.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 1

The language of life and death is an art form. A whisper here, a

bloodcurdling scream there…these are the instruments that form
the orchestra of my existence. Macabre? Perhaps. It depends on
your perspective. I take pride in the burden I’ve been condemned
to bear. It is the sole purpose of my continued existence. Why
would I want the fruits of my labor derided or mocked when that is
all I really have?

Some call me the Angel of Death, but that’s not accurate. I

don’t kill. I erase life. There’s a singular difference between the
two. I don’t expect most people to understand. It’s about
precision—of language, of semantics, of what I do. A dozen
centuries ago, I might not have been so particular. The job was
new then. So was I. Relatively speaking. I’m not so much

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

anymore.

That doesn’t mean I don’t do everything I can to fit into this

ever-changing world. I have a two-bedroom condo in Palo Alto, I
have a visiting professor status at Stanford University, I even have
a cat named Kuro that throws up in my favorite shoes every time
I’m gone too long. None of it will last, of course, but still, for now
it’s the semblance of normalcy.

Sometimes, I even believe it.
Until another assignment comes.
I was home, reading essays on Solzhenitsyn’s Gulag

Archipelago. Note I say reading, not grading. That would come
later, after I’d inured myself to pedantic analyses, pathetic spelling,
and appalling grammar. Such a dulling process often required
wine, which also delayed the grading process. Once, the first year
I’d been at Stanford, I tried skipping the anesthetic phase and
going straight to grading with wine. I nearly lost my job over it,
because I gave a D to a prominent alumnus’s daughter. Frankly,
she should have had an F, but my drunk self is more lenient than
my sober one.

Anywhere, that’s where I was. Kuro had claimed the

windowsill, his ginger body stretched along its length, and Jon
Stewart was on in the background. I was buckled in for the night,
dressed in my favorite T-shirt—a faded blue number from an REM
concert in 1991—and cut-off sweats, with papers in two stacks on
the coffee table in front of me. Read and unread. The one resting
against my knees had been written by a cute basketball player with
a penchant for referring to the work as the Stalag Archipelago. It
was a good thing he was athletic and attractive. He was going to
need both to get ahead. I had been trying to get through his third-
grade writing for the last half hour.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

When the doorbell rang, I bolted from my seat, too ready—and

needy—for an interruption. It didn’t occur to me until I was almost
at the door that people didn’t visit me in the evenings, especially
on a Friday night.

But Lemuel had never once been human. So he was excused.
To most of the world, he looked human enough. They would

see a skinny, buck-toothed blond somewhere in his thirties in dire
need of a haircut and shower. Closer examination revealed him as
near skeletal, not just too thin, with sunken black eyes that never
blinked, and crooked fangs instead of regular teeth. His mottled
complexion wasn’t pock marks from teenaged acne run amok, but
fresh sores that occasionally pulsed in time with his languid
heartbeat.

But like I said. Few would ever truly see him. That requires a

careful attention most people lack. You humans can be the most
fascinating creatures sometimes, but observant you are not.

I saw him just fine. And I wasn’t exactly thrilled about it.
“Well, at least you knocked this time.” I held the door wider.

Invitations were a waste of breath.

“I am the very model of civility.” He ambled past. A whiff of

sour sweat drifted behind him. I made a mental note to air out the
condo the next day. “I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

He sounded too hopeful. I slapped the back of his head as I

headed back to my seat on the couch. “I wouldn’t have answered if
you were.”

“Shame.” He flopped down in the chair and propped his

Converse heels on the coffee table. The papers scattered. “You’re
no fun anymore, Caleb. Remember when you had those twins you
kept in cages in your basement? How come you don’t have
anything like that going on now?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“Because I live in California, and basements are death traps.”
“Only if you can die. Which takes us back to my question.”
Leaning over, I began picking up the papers he’d knocked over.

“What’s the assignment, Lem?”

His face screwed up, and he stuck his tongue out at me. Such

an old demon should not be such a petulant child. “One of these
days, you’re going to sprout a big white beard and start using a
cane, just like the old fart you’re turning into.” He waved a hand
toward Kuro, and sparks danced from his fingertips in her
direction. She didn’t move, bless her heart, though she did glare at
him and curl her upper lip. “I mean, you have a cat, for fuck’s
sake. And I’ll bet there’s slippers under the couch.”

I refused to look up. “Hardwood floors get cold.”
“See what I mean? All that’s missing are the bifocals.”
“What I see…” I straightened and returned the stack of papers

back to the table, folding my arms over my chest to stare down at
him. He wasn’t intimidated by my size, but it made me feel better
to tower over the little twerp. “…is a messenger who seems more
concerned about the lack of entertainment in his mundane little job
and not nearly worried enough that I’ll say something to the right
person about how he wastes time with small talk when there’s
clearly a job that needs to be done. Now. Do I get my assignment,
or do I get the privilege of throwing you out?”

With a grimace, Lem reached into his tattered jeans pocket and

pulled out a tiny folded piece of paper. He tossed it onto the coffee
table, where it twirled in place, around and around and around like
an origami top. We waited together for the image to appear in the
small translucent cloud that energy created, though I didn’t fail to
notice how Lem kept glancing up at me through his wispy lashes.

“His name’s Leandro Warnell.” It almost sounded like Lem

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

paused between the two names, like the first was significant
enough on its own. “You’ll have to travel for this one. He’s in
Alaska.”

I frowned. “I’m in the middle of the term here.”
“You want to be the one to tell the bosses that?”
Lem failed to understand the significance it was for me to try

and maintain a foothold in the modern world, but he had a point.
Failing to show up for a couple classes wouldn’t leave me on a
pyre like making excuses to the Higher Powers would.

I sighed and crouched down to get a better look at the guy. “Is

this personal or punishment?” Those were the only two reasons I
erased people from the physical world. There were those who
struck deals with the Higher Powers to disappear, and there were
those who pissed off the wrong demon and got eliminated as a
result. Surprisingly, the numbers for each remained relatively even
over the centuries.

Though the image had a grainy projected quality to it, I could

still tell he was a beautiful specimen of humanity. His skin was
dark, the shade of old, weathered walnut, and his eyes so brown
they appeared black. Five-o’clock shadow outlined his generous
mouth, but his scalp was shorn nearly bald, the hair so short it
looked like it was just starting to grow in after a shave. He wasn’t
old, thirty on the outside, and though he wore faded jeans and a
long-sleeved, red and black flannel shirt, his body was clearly lean
and hard. He sat on the wooden floor of a cabin, his back against
the narrow couch, his gaze fixed on something beyond the image’s
reach. In his lap was a guitar that he strummed aimlessly.

I stifled the shiver that ran down my spine. No matter how

often I saw it, I always found it eerie when people were clearly
making some kind of noise and the image was utterly silent.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I stared at him for several minutes before I realized Lem hadn’t

actually answered my question. When I looked up, I caught him
watching me instead of this Leandro Warnell, though he quickly
looked away before I could comment on it.

“The usual for this one,” Lem said. He started to reach for the

paper, but I caught his wrist and stopped him. He immediately
scowled. “What?”

“Personal or punishment?” I repeated, making sure to over-

enunciate both words so he could see how annoyed I was. It
wouldn’t make a difference in the end. The result was always the
same. But sometimes, depending on the circumstances, I chose to
make it easier for those about to be erased. Sometimes.

His nostrils flared, and he sucked air in between his teeth. He

really didn’t want to answer my question. I squeezed harder, the
bones grinding within my grasp. Lem didn’t make a sound of
protest or pain, but I knew it hurt. Pain was one of my specialties.

“Both.”
That stopped me. “What do you mean, both?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s impossible.”
Lem shrugged. “Since when has that ever stopped us?”
“Who’s punishing him?”
A shake of the head this time. “Can’t say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
He leaned forward, his obsidian gaze locked on mine. “Can’t.”
Though it didn’t happen very often, Lem’s declaration meant

one of my superiors wanted his or her involvement in this
assignment secret. Usually, it was to save strife from within the
ranks. Erasing a favored minion was bad form. Wars had been
started more than once over their inane infighting. I was just glad I

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

was never held accountable for my actions. I was the sword, not
the master. The Higher Powers understood that, though it had
taken me a very long time to believe myself.

But the odds of someone both punishing this Leandro and his

striking a deal at the same time were astronomical enough to be
ludicrous. I don’t care what Lem said. There was something wrong
about this assignment. Whether there was something I could do
about it, however, was almost as impossible.

I let Lem go and turned back to the image, paying more

attention to the house surrounding him. Rustic. Lots of wood. The
legs of the couch had scratch marks on them. The man owned a
cat. The guitar, on the other hand, was lovingly polished. I’m not a
music aficionado, but I memorized its sleek lines to research later.
A fool could see it was important to the man.

“What about family?” I asked.
“He lives alone up there. Should be easy to get to.”
“Timeline?”
“All I got is fast. Probably not enough time for you to finesse

this one.”

I scowled. Without the so-called finesse, mistakes were made.

A detail I might have missed could unravel all my work, and
instead of someone simply dissolving from the annals of history,
they ended up becoming a missing persons case. It had been
several decades since it had last happened to me, but that last
oversight had turned into a nationwide search, as the country
started looking for a minor Hollywood actress who should have
simply vanished from the world. The detail I missed? Her first-
term pregnancy. I’d worked diligently to destroy the threads of her
life—hers was a punishment from a jealous bitch above me—and
yet, I’d failed to take into account her sudden decision to get an

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

abortion. In 1949, they were still illegal, and her desires to
terminate and salvage her career had proven my downfall.

“When are you going to move?” Lem asked.
“Tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”
“I need to get as much information ahead of time as I can.”
“Still…”
This cagey attitude was going to wear thin very quickly. I

swept my hand through the image to send it scattering into
nothingness, then scooped up the paper before Lem could get to it.

“Hey! Give that back!”
Straightening, I retreated to the other side of the coffee table,

keeping my fist curled tightly around the missive. “My assignment.
I’m keeping it.”

Lem bared his fangs and finally stood. I tried not to sigh. His

posturing really did get old after a while. “They’ll have my hide
for letting you have that.”

“Then I suggest you figure out a way to hold onto it.”
“Your next courier might not be as generous as I am.”
“I should be so lucky. Are we done here?”
His response was a roll of his hand and a bend of his waist as

he affected a mock bow. His spine continued to curl, however, and
the skinny body folded in on itself, limb merging to limb. The sour
smell grew stronger for a second, but then he was gone, melted
into the cesspool of his magic. I’d seen him come and go like that
too many times to count. To this day, I had no idea what happened
to him when he did.

The edges of the paper dug into my palm. I opened my hand to

look at it, and there, in the fleshy pad at the base of my thumb, was
a single drop of blood. It looked like any other blood I’d ever seen,

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

rich red, fat and viscous. The only difference was…I don’t bleed.
One of the benefits of being immortal. Only the Higher Powers had
the ability to hurt me, or take away my existence.

As I watched, the bead welled and then burst from the force of

gravity, rolling across my skin toward the paper. It hit the sharp
corner that had broken the skin, but rather than act as a barrier, the
paper soaked it up, staining brownish red until nothing was left on
my hand.

No more blood oozed from the cut, either. In fact, when I

examined it more closely, I couldn’t even see where it had come
from.

Even more impossibilities. All in one night.
I would say I’d got lucky, but nothing about this felt right.
As fascinating as all of it was, however, none of it changed the

task I’d been given. Fast, Lemuel had said. He’d seemed unhappy
with my decision to get to Alaska tomorrow, too. That couldn’t be
helped. Arrangements had to be made, research had to be started,
all of it required time Lem didn’t think I had. If this Leandro
Warnell was as much of a loner as his appearances made him out
to be, it should be a simple erase, the lines to blur few and far
between before they were snuffed out entirely.

The sudden urge to look upon the man again nearly had me on

my knees, but I summoned the necessary resolve to face my work
head on and crossed the room to where my phone rested on a side
table. Five minutes later, my classes were covered for the next
week, and excuses made to humans who had no clue what kind of
power I wielded, who had no idea how easy it would be for me to
obliterate anything and everything they knew.

Hesitation returned.
Lemuel’s accusations echoed in my ears.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I’m not stodgy. I’m careful.
Except I could remember the times he described, the carefree

screams that had made my body sing. I’d still had my work, but I’d
had a life beyond it, one of hot, pure pleasure found in the nubile
flesh of beautiful young men.

In my head, Leandro Warnell smiled at something unseen. His

blunt fingers caressed the guitar strings as only a lover could.

Were it not for the instruction fast, I could find it simple to

indulge in the man’s allure before eradicating him from the
terrestrial plane. His was a body that wouldn’t break easily. I knew
that without even having seen it in all its glory.

But time was not a flexible mistress. I lacked it and would lack

even more if I didn’t start moving.

The paper went into my pocket, unnecessary for now, but not

forgotten.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 2

Believe it or not, in all the years of my overextended existence,

I had never been to Alaska. I was created—born—something—in
Gaul during the Imperial Crisis, in a tribe known as the Treveri,
and until the 1500s, stayed in Europe and Africa. My migration to
the New World began in Jamaica, actually, a beautiful country
fraught with too much strife as Europeans slowly inflicted their
belief systems upon it. Assignments were plentiful. My memories
of the region are warm and fond, but unfortunately short-lived. For
my work, I followed people. I followed growth. That meant
moving north, and then west.

Perhaps Alaska was the next logical step.
Access was my first big obstacle to finding my target, so I

chartered a private plane for the journey. In urban areas, I could

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

rely on folding the terrestrial plane to my will to move from here to
there. I could even do so in smaller towns, if they were particularly
religious.

But remote areas posed a specific difficulty. Cities have an

industrialized sanitization that makes manipulating its space
simple, but in more wild regions, there are a lot more variables to
take into account. Confusing? A little. Think of it like a math
problem. Someplace like the Bay Area, where I was currently
living, has a finite subset of comparatives to use in its simple
subtractions. Alaskan countryside doesn’t have walls, or rules, or
any form of artificial containment. In the wild, anything is
possible, anything can change on a whim, so therefore, the subset
of those comparatives is endless. Ergo, the nearly impossible task
of completely reforming it to your will.

Simple terms? Flying is easier.
Though not cheaper.
I had been spoiled by living in California for the past few

years, but the southern part of Alaska wasn’t as bad as I’d feared
when I landed. The air was crisp, the kind of cold that makes the
hair on the inside of your nose go sharp and sensitive, and the sun
blinded where it reflected off the clean stretch of untouched snow
next to the short runway. Not a cloud broke the expanse of
cerulean sky. Standing next to my small bush plane, I stared out at
the forested mountain in the distance, the jewel tones of the
emerald against the blue momentarily distracting from my purpose.

There were times—occasionally—where I wondered what it

would be like to escape the world entirely and disappear into a
section of the terrestrial plane where there were no people and no
calls to duty. Someplace serene, with only nature as a companion,
where I could focus on enjoying the bounty created by both man

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

and animal. Time to read to my heart’s content, to learn how to be
a better cook, to appreciate what made life worth living for the
majority of the planet’s occupants.

But these were pipe dreams, and I knew it. That’s why I rarely

indulge in the fantasies. Because I could escape people without a
problem. It was the Higher Powers and couriers like Lemuel who
chained me in place.

I had yet to sleep, but the brilliant sunshine worked better than

any triple espresso. With my leather satchel slung over my
shoulder, I headed for the small office to register my arrival. I’d
erase everything when I left, but until my assignment was
complete, I had to follow human protocols.

The portly older man lounging in the desk chair wore a stained

jumpsuit and fur-lined boots. He smiled up at me from his dog-
eared copy of Entertainment Weekly, and held his page with a thick
index finger. “You must be my California connection.” One of his
canines had been replaced by a gold tooth. It caught the light
streaming through the tiny window and glinted in my eyes.

“Caleb Marks.” I set the file folder with all my plane

information on the desk between us. “Everything should be in
order.”

He had to set aside his magazine to pick it up and flip through

it. His adjusted position gave me a better view of the name stitched
over his left breast pocket. Lyle.

“Looks like.” The folder ended up forgotten off to the side.

Lyle seemed far more interested in sizing me up and down. “So
what’s your business in our neck of the woods? Personal or
professional?”

“Personal. I’m on vacation.”
“Oh? Where you staying?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“A friend’s.”
“What’s his name? I probably know him. Everybody knows

everybody else around here, you know.”

Everybody was exactly twenty-four people. And Lyle was

right. There was no way to lie and keep my cover.

“Leandro Warnell.”
The name didn’t elicit a huge reaction. In fact, it barely drew a

reaction at all. Lyle simply bobbed his head in recognition, like
he’d expected nothing else. “You staying long?”

“Just a couple days.” Less, if I could get Leandro all to myself

with no interruptions.

Lyle launched into his little airport’s regulations, a spiel he

threw far too much enthusiasm into. I zoned out after the first two
minutes, focusing more of my energy on absorbing the details of
him and his office. This would be my last stop before returning to
Palo Alto, the last detail to erase. The more I understood about the
man, the smoother I could make the transition for him.

I might be a demon, but I’m not a monster. A singular

difference. Just like the rest of it.

Before he’d let me walk out, I had to sign off on a sheaf of

papers and accept a set of fur-lined gloves. “Something tells me
you only brought one pair,” he said with a wink. “Around here, it’s
better to have at least two. It’s not cold enough for things to start
dropping off, but there’s no such thing as too protective of our
dangly bits, now is there?”

He laughed like this was the funniest thing anybody had ever

said. I just smiled, nodded, and backed my ass out of there.

From what I’d discovered, Leandro lived a little over a mile

from the airstrip, which was the only reason I hadn’t bothered
asking for a car. The brief walk through the Alaskan morning

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

exhilarated me from top to toe. This time of year, daylight lasted
for only six or seven hours. I wouldn’t have many opportunities
such as this one to enjoy the state’s savage beauty, and I was
determined to make it last as long as possible. My pace remained
languorous, even with the slight wind that picked up to nip at my
nose. I stopped to search through undergrowth twice, because I
could have sworn I’d heard something crawling in it. I probably
had. One of the perks of my continued existence. But each time I
swept away the long, dense fronds, all I found was bare earth.

The road I followed narrowed into a single lane, then veered

sharply to the left and into the trees. I stood at the mouth of the
opening and gazed up the meandering drive. The cabin wasn’t
visible from here. It had been built for privacy, not presence. If
Leandro had a vehicle—and I assumed in this kind of environment,
he wasn’t a complete idiot—it was parked next to the house. I’d
found no records of his ownership in my nocturnal research.
Leasing from a local would be another thread to sever.

My breath plumed in front of my face by the time I reached the

last bend. I was looking forward to holing myself up in the cabin
for the duration of my task, not for the pleasure of the work but
rather for the comforts it would provide. The relief I kept
experiencing was almost enough to make me believe it was time to
move on from Palo Alto. Teaching was no longer fun, if I had to
slog my way through grading like I did, and since it was purely
voluntary, sticking around was an exercise in self-flagellation more
than anything else.

Perhaps someplace like Alaska should be my next semi-

permanent destination.

The vehicle I’d wondered about was a sturdy black pickup, the

treads clogged with dirty snow, the sidewalls dusted with salt. It

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didn’t have Alaska plates, though. The white and green plate came
from Florida, the orange separating the two halves of the letters
and numbers almost obscene in the bitter cold. I frowned. I’d
found no indication Leandro Warnell had ties to Florida. They’d
been heavy and strong for the Pacific Northeast.

I don’t like anomalies. There was already too much about this

assignment that was different than the norm, but the one aspect I
have always been able to count on is my research. My
methodology has been perfected over centuries, my magic precise,
my results nearly impeccable. Since I am one of only three of my
kind in the entire terrestrial plane, I’ve had to be good at what I do
in order to survive.

Yet, this showed signs of failures. Failures led to punishments.
Common sense told me to turn back. Too much could go

wrong. I could fly back to California, contact Lemuel, and inform
him of the difficulties in erasing this particular individual. He
could relay the information to whomever had ordered it, and either
get me more time or have it assigned to someone else.

The latter possibility could also lead to a punishment.
My common sense liked that even less than staying around.
To my chagrin, the front porch creaked under my weight,

announcing my presence before I had the chance to knock. Music
drifted from inside, the bass pounding hard enough to make my
soles vibrate, and I leaned to the side to try and peer through the
window.

The door opened as I was looking.
If Leandro Warnell seemed surprised to see me, he showed no

signs. The clothes he wore were variations on his ensemble the
night before, though his cuffs were rolled up to reveal strong
forearms. The stubble remained, either a permanent feature or the

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

product of fast follicles. His bemused smile greeted rather than
turned away, and for a moment, I forgot why I was there. This sort
of welcome was rare, this friendliness wrapped in the façade of
social niceties, but even more than that, the sudden surge of
attraction nearly stole my breath away. He’d been attractive in the
image I’d seen last night. In person, he was absolutely devastating.

“I would’ve thought the truck made it clear someone was at

home.” His rich baritone warmed me to the bones, dispelling the
icy chill that had settled there. My cock was quick to respond to it,
too, swelling where it was trapped against my thigh. “Are you
lost?”

I blinked. That was my standard excuse to get into an

assignment’s home the first time, and he’d beaten me to the punch.
“Yes—”

“Well, get in here before we both freeze to death.” He held the

door wider, jerking his head toward something unseen inside. “I’ve
got coffee on. I’ll pour you a cup while we figure out where you’re
supposed to be.”

His entire demeanor was throwing me off. I’ve seen every

response under the sun—fear, anger, acceptance, and any other
possible reaction to finding a stranger at your door you can think
of. Leandro’s familiarity was rare in this day and age. People
naturally resisted the unknown, a tendency that had been bred to
paranoid dimensions over the last century. The only justification I
could find for his actions was the location. Someplace remote like
this was slower to meet up with what the rest of the world was
doing.

“I don’t want to be a problem,” I heard myself saying. Don’t

ask. I’m not sure why. Perhaps because it shouldn’t have been so
easy, though the fears I’d had about the rest of this assignment

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

should have been enough to make me grateful for the breaks I got.

His smile deepened, and a dimple came out to play in his

cheek. “Never.”

Crossing the threshold of a new domicile always made me a

little light-headed. Whether people realize it or not, they have their
own magics, their own powers, inherent in their humanity. The
home is one of the most powerful weapons they wield. Why do
you think the mythology of vampires and so many other monsters
incorporate the concept of sanctuary so thoroughly? Even if you
don’t know it consciously, you always invariably seek out the
safety of a home. Your soul calls to it. Needs it. So when a creature
like myself passes over that barrier? It has an effect. The older we
get, the more negligible it becomes, because we become strong
enough to resist its pull.

But crossing Leandro’s, I felt nothing. It was like it didn’t even

exist.

I stopped and looked back at the doorway, through it at the

snow blanketing the front yard, my footsteps like miniature black
holes leading up to the porch. It seemed totally normal.
Unremarkable in every way.

“It’s okay,” Leandro said from behind me. He sounded like he

was still smiling. “I’m not some axe murderer you have to worry
about chopping your head off. I don’t even own an axe.”

His attempts at levity might have worked if I wasn’t so freaked

out. What was it about this guy that broke every rule I knew?

I was the one with the power here. I was the one who’d walked

this plane for centuries, and would live for centuries more. I was
the one who’d leave this house with his life still intact, and yet, all
these little puzzle pieces that made up Leandro Warnell left me
floundering.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I hadn’t even remembered to seal the threshold in time before

Leandro returned to my side with a steaming cup of coffee.

“Something tells me you like it black,” he said.
I stared at him as he passed the mug over. I did.
“I’m Leandro.”
He held out the hand that had just been holding my coffee.

When I shook it, the heat bled into my skin, electrifying nerve
endings that had long lain dormant. My chest tightened, and my
vision tunneled down to this lone man standing in front of me. The
eyes that had appeared so dark in the image weren’t nearly so in
person. Here, they glowed with warmth, tiny flecks of amber in the
irises catching the light and beckoning me to look closer.

I almost did. I haven’t had a lover in years, though I’ve had the

occasional one-night stand to take off the edge. None of them
garnered this kind of reaction, and yet, he managed to do it with a
single handshake.

“Caleb.”
“It’s good to have you here.” He let me go. His fingertips

tickled across my palm in what would have been a blatant
invitation in San Francisco. Against my better judgment, my cock
jerked. “I don’t get to see that many faces.”

“You probably see more moose than you do people.”
He laughed. He was a man who was born to do it. It filled the

room like waves of heat rolling off the flames in a fireplace.
“Probably,” he agreed. He nodded toward the couch I recognized
from the missive. “Take your coat off and have a seat. I’ll just turn
the music down, so we can talk without screaming at each other.”

My eyes tracked him all the way to the stereo tucked away in a

tiny cupboard near the front window. The guitar leaned against the
wall next to it.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“You play?”
The bass reverberating through the floorboards disappeared as

he adjusted the volume to more tolerable levels. “Yeah. You?”

“No, I have absolutely zero musical talents whatsoever.”
“Everybody has some talent.” He picked up the guitar and

carried it back to the couch. By the time he sat, I’d managed to get
my coat off and my pack on the floor at my feet, so I didn’t feel
quite so out of place anymore. “It’s just a matter of digging deep
enough to find it.”

“Is this what you do in your spare time, then?” I’d learned from

my divinations he’d been a stock broker before the current
economic crisis, and that he was dealing with a lot of online
marketing now as a way to try and keep his head above water.
Alaska seemed to be some kind of retreat until he found his footing
again.

“That implies I have time to spare.” Without taking his eyes off

me, he began to softly strum, his thumb almost delicate upon the
strings. “You don’t mind if I play, do you? It relaxes me.”

“No, no, go ahead.”
“So. You’re lost.”
I kept my eyes away from the front door. Until I sealed the

threshold, I needed to play this straight. He couldn’t have an
avenue of escape once I started, and I couldn’t use my magic so
blatantly in front of him. When people witness the unknown, they
have adrenaline spikes. Those spikes would prolong my work, and
I couldn’t make this more difficult than it already was.

“I got myself all turned around out there,” I said. “And then my

car died. Go figure.”

He nodded sympathetically. “Signal sucks up here, too. You

probably tried to call someone, right?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“I would’ve if I hadn’t noticed I didn’t have any bars.”
“Where is it you’re trying to get to?”
“A friend’s got a cabin a hundred miles or so north. He offered

to let me crash there for a little while.”

His gaze lingered on mine. “Lucky friend.”
The hinted invitation of his handshake blossomed into more

than vague allusion. Leandro was interested, as interested in me as
my body seemed to be in his. I hadn’t imagined that shock of
attraction, and he clearly wasn’t going to ignore it.

I don’t fuck my assignments. It’s never in anyone’s best

interest. But getting personal with this guy might just help fill in
some of the holes I had about who he was. This one time, it might
be strategic to follow through on my desires.

Plus, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to feel him break

beneath me. He’d fight back, which would make success all that
much sweeter.

“I’m starting to think maybe I’m the lucky one.” I stretched my

legs in semblance of getting more comfortable, aware that by
doing so I put the line of my erection on full display. Leandro
glanced for a split second, then the corner of his mouth lifted as he
reverted his attention back to the guitar in his hands.

“I don’t have much, but you’re welcome to stick around for a

while,” he said. “I’ve got some breakfast left over if you want it,
too.”

“No, I’m good. But thanks.”
The melody he played was hypnotic. It lilted along in a minor

key, calling forth sensations out of place in the middle of Alaska. I
thought of basking under the sun, and the smell of salt and
seaweed in my nose. Somewhere on a beach, with his oiled body
stretched out next to mine.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

Somewhere like Florida.
“Are you on vacation?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Why do you ask?”
“You don’t have Alaska plates on your truck.”
He smiled at me. “You’re very observant.”
“It’s my job to be.”
“What do you do?”
“Teach. European civilizations at Stanford University.”
A brow went up. “Sounds hard.”
“Teaching isn’t hard. Grading, on the other hand…”
He chuckled at my little joke, but his gaze became distant, his

playing almost pensive. “California. Huh. I wouldn’t have pegged
you for that.”

“So we’re pegging each other now?”
I said it with a smile, hoping he’d see I was just as receptive to

his earlier flirtation, but he didn’t look up from his guitar. Instead,
he’d disappeared into himself, maybe wrapped up in his music,
maybe put off by my forward manner. I was accustomed to more
liberal attitudes in the Bay Area. I was able to teach without having
to hide my sexual preferences. It was entirely possible I’d
misconstrued his interest, or moved too quickly.

Hell, it was entirely possible I was completely nuts for thinking

about any of this. I had a job to do, and just because he was hot
didn’t mean I could forsake it. This back and forth was just more
of what was wrong about this whole scenario.

Punishment might be better for me, after all. If I couldn’t keep

my head on straight—

“This is harder than I thought it’d be.”
His voice was low enough I had to strain to hear it, and he still

wasn’t looking at me. The smile was gone, too. I waited for

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

clarification, for anything, but all that came was the slowing of his
playing, each note struggling to be released.

“Perhaps I should try my luck elsewhere—”
“No.”
Slowly, Leandro set aside the instrument. The other music

drifted back into my awareness. I’d forgotten it was there, beneath
the guitar’s haunting melody, and now the dissonance made my
skin crawl. I rolled my neck, trying to disrupt the sensations, but
then, Leandro had his hand on my knee, up my thigh, onto my arm
before I lifted my head to see his face inches from mine.

I saw nothing else. We were alone, isolated, cut off from

everything else like a ship anchored in a fog-locked bay.

I was surprisingly okay with that.
“Don’t go,” Leandro murmured.
Though I started to shake my head, he stopped the motion with

the seal of his full mouth over mine.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 3

I love kissing. It’s the intimacy of the act, the sensation of

consuming another life, another soul—even if it’s all symbolic—
that I adore. People have to eat to survive, and sure, modern
medicine has made it possible to do so without ever using your
mouths, but honestly, that’s no kind of existence. It’s a way station
for the patient to utilize until he’s ready to join the living again.
Then, when he does, he’ll consume whatever he has to—and lots
of things he doesn’t—to survive.

But loving it and doing it are two entirely different matters.

I’ve been called cold by some of my one-night stands before,
because I generally refrain from any sort of oral connection. I’ll
use my mouth to suck a cock, or to feast on a gorgeous ass, but
that’s as far as it goes.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

Kissing is about survival. I don’t need it. I crave it, but few are

worth the energy or emotion that eventually come wrapped up in
the act.

None of that explains why I didn’t push Leandro away as soon

as his lips touched mine.

The first caress was almost chaste, his ripe mouth catching on

my lower lip where my skin was dryer than his. I smelled coffee on
his warm breath, which inexplicably prickled my taste buds. I’d
only just sipped my own, but this hinted at something richer, more
sunshine like that created by his music beating down on the back
of my neck. My lips parted for more of it.

He took that as an invitation.
I think, perhaps, it was.
His hand stole around to my nape and held me in place as his

tongue slipped inside. He kept it slow, almost controlled, dancing
with my tongue in a seductive tease, but a surge of excitement
coursed through me I hadn’t felt in a long time. I leaned forward to
meet him, and grabbed onto his hips, ready to haul him onto my
lap.

“Wait.”
The raggedness of his voice shocked me, though mine would

likely be a mirror image. He bit at my lip one more time, then
dragged his fingertips to the open collar of my shirt.

“What are you doing?” I managed.
The buttons popped easily. “I need to see you.”
The problem with that was he wasn’t looking down. His

features swam before mine, too close to discern as anything more
than a blur of browns and whites. Except for the eyes. Those bored
into mine, a certain knowing lurking in their depths. Ancient, I
would have called them. An old soul if there ever was such a thing.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

Why would a man like this want to be erased? What was so

wrong with his life that he felt the need to eradicate it completely?

I wanted to ask, but the drag of his fingertips down the middle

of my chest choked the queries in my throat. I couldn’t even glance
down to watch what he was doing. His face was too near, his
quickening breath too warm. I would have to shove him away to
get a better perspective, but that would shatter whatever spell was
woven between and around us.

I licked my dry lips. There was no doubt this time about the

invitation it was, but Leandro didn’t take it. He tracked the motion
with his eyes, but otherwise didn’t move, except for the deliberate
glide of his hand down and down and down, over my navel to the
button of my jeans.

Submission is not my game. I choose my partners, I choose the

place, I take the lead. It’s always been a part of my make-up. When
I was much younger, I attributed it to my calling, but I’d become
more open-minded over the years. It was just a part of me. I didn’t
have it in me to cede control.

So why didn’t I stop him? I could. Easily. I was stronger, as

well as motivated to keep this situation manageable.

But when his fingers toyed with my fly, I held my tongue. I

wanted to see if he was a man who took what he wanted, if this
kiss had been an accident of fate or a precursor of things to come,
or if he asked permission. The answer would tell me a lot about
who he was beneath the surface, cues no divination could ever
create. Or at least, that’s how I justified it to myself. It sounds
good, doesn’t it? In the moment, it seemed ideal.

“Please?”
He whispered the single word. It sounded like a shout. I’d been

excited already, but his request tuned every nerve in my body as

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

tight as his guitar strings.

“Yes,” I murmured, and before he could move away, scooped

my hand around the back of his head to take his mouth again.

This kiss was mine. He might have instigated all this, but I

would take it forward from his request on. He’d granted me that
right by asking. I claimed his full lips for my own, then swept
inside, plunging past his nonexistent defenses to taste the darkest
corners of his mouth. Every touch of his tongue against mine only
made me hungrier. He leaned into the caress, pliant, willing,
almost begging to be consumed.

His hand never stopped moving. He undid my jeans with an

expert touch and deftly reached inside to mold over my aching
cock. My briefs were wet where pre-come had soaked through, and
he rubbed the fabric into the sensitive head, even digging a little
into the slit.

I hissed into his mouth. That slight edge always triggered my

feral side. “Be careful,” I warned. “You might not like what that
does to me.”

His tongue flicked over my lip as he swiped at his own.

“Maybe I’m counting on it.”

He couldn’t know what he was saying, but the taunt called the

demon in me closer to the surface than it had been in a very long
time. I didn’t even allow it this close at the height of my
assignments, when the blood of the men and women I was forced
to subsume stained my hands. My fingertips dug into his scalp, and
the hold they created pushed him downward, past my open shirt,
forcing him to his knees.

Then, he did the strangest thing.
He smiled at me.
It wasn’t a mocking smile, or a condescending one. It wasn’t

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

amused, or lustful, or resentful. It was…joyous. That’s the only
word for it. Like I’d given him the exact gift he’d wanted for
Christmas, and all was right with his world.

He didn’t wait for me to push him closer to my cock. He dug

right in, yanking at my jeans and briefs to free both the thick length
and my heavy balls. One hand cradled the shaft, while he ducked
his head to lick my sac. My hips jerked upward at the hot, wet
contact, and his lips parted even more to take half of it into his
hungry mouth.

I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I couldn’t. I was too

aroused to do much more than keep the man in place as he sucked
on my balls. His tongue kept dancing around in torturous patterns,
alighting here then there until my head was spinning from trying to
keep up with him. He wasn’t even jerking me off yet, just
steadying my cock until he could get back to it, but I was already
on the edge, yearning for the release I knew would be explosive. I
wanted to come. More, I wanted to paint his beautiful dark skin
with my spunk. He would be magnificent in it, I was sure.

When he finally released my sac, I expected him to shift to the

blow job we both knew was coming. My toes curled inside my
shoes in anticipation. So did my fingers against his head. But he
surprised me again by burying his nose in the coarse hair at the
base of my cock, and breathing deeply. A low moan resonated in
his chest. Part of me wondered if he’d been celibate for a while. He
acted like a man who hadn’t been allowed sex for a very long time.

The hand on my shaft slid downward, pulling the foreskin back

at the same time. A clear drop of pre-come dripped down the tip,
and as much as I was enjoying the attention, I tugged his head
away.

“No more games,” I said.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

His gaze was solemn. “Who said I was playing?”
I thought we both were, but I couldn’t actually voice that. I

wrapped my free hand around the one he had on my cock, and
aimed it more directly at his mouth. Without looking away, he
leaned in and ran his tongue around the tip, cleaning it until it
shone from spit rather than my desire.

No more games.
But I couldn’t force it more than I already was. The need to see

my lust reciprocated rooted deep inside me, and for more than the
occasional hungry groan. I had to see it in his eyes, or hear it in his
voice, or feel it with the pressure of his mouth and tongue. I didn’t
know where it came from. I was acting as desperate as he was. I
only recognized it for what it was doing to me.

Because it made me bend forward, my fly digging almost

painfully into my balls, so I could graze my lips over his. The pose
arched his neck backward, bowing to my will, but he didn’t look
away. He almost seemed to welcome my gentle assault.

“What’re you waiting for?” he murmured. “Fuck my mouth.”
I held him like that, shivering at the tremors that were starting

to ripple beneath his skin. “Is that what you invite every stranger
who shows up at your door to do?”

“Never.”
“Even as lonely as it must get up here?”
The gaze that had been watching my mouth drifted up to my

eyes. The earlier joy had disappeared, leaving behind only
shadows. “You don’t have to be stuck in a cabin in Alaska to be
lonely.”

I had merely been baiting him into admitting he wanted me, but

the soft confession sliced deeper than anything I could have
anticipated. My research had shown me none of this. I’d learned

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

about a young professional with no family and a college sweetheart
who had left him just before graduation. I’d found threads
connecting him to a handful of software companies, and the
occasional fling that was too anonymous to read as more than a
glimmer. His life personified Thoreau’s famous verse more
perfectly than most who chose to disappear.

Men with nothing to lose had hollow emotions. There was

nothing insipid about Leandro’s.

A lesser being might have felt guilty about using this to his

advantage. It only made me want Leandro more.

As soon as I started to push his head down, he dropped his jaw,

ready to swallow me down. His eyes stayed on mine as long as
they could, but the angle quickly became too awkward for such
contact. He sealed his lips around the crown of my cock and dug
his tongue directly into the slit.

“Oh, God…” I wouldn’t last long if he continued to discover

my hot spots. I might not last long anyway.

I let him suckle for several minutes, lavishing every inch of

skin I would allow him to reach. He managed to tickle along the
edge of my foreskin, though pulled taut as it was made it
impossible to slide beneath it. I wondered if he was cut. I hoped
not. I’d love to dock with him, see the contrast of our skin so
intimately connected. Next time. After I’d sealed the threshold.
After I could claim him and before I had to destroy him. It
wouldn’t be long, but it would be worth it.

When that became too much to bear, I prodded him to take

more. His tongue curled around my heavy cock, but it was his full
lips, stretched around the shaft, that pulled my balls tight. I
couldn’t remember ever being so enamored with a man’s mouth
before, especially when it dragged back to the tip, the pink of his

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

inner lip a richer shade than that of my flesh. To be fair, I was
enamored with everything about him, from the way he instigated a
slow rhythm up and down the few inches I allowed him, to the
little whines that emanated from the back of his throat every time it
seemed like I was going to take my cock away from him.

He braced his palms atop my thighs, letting me control the

tempo, the depth. His nails dug into my jeans when I pushed more
of my cock past his lips, the muscles of his arms getting tighter and
tighter with each stroke, and I wondered how he would look
spread-eagle on a bed, tied down to endure everything I did to him.

Those kinds of images didn’t help to make this last any longer.
I thought about closing my eyes to block him out. Focus on the

physical, forget about the person actually blowing me. But that
would defeat the purpose in indulging, because this wasn’t because
I was too horned up to resist an attractive man. It was about
Leandro. That should have terrified me.

The fact that it didn’t should’ve terrified even more.
Sweat gleamed along his upper lip. My thumb reached to wipe

it off, then slid inside his mouth for him to suck clean. The added
pressure made both of us moan. On the next thrust forward, I
didn’t stop when I reached the back of his mouth. I pressed
forward, slowly, carefully, and buried my cock in his throat.

A shudder wracked through him. His eyes closed, and his

hands slid beneath my ass to keep me as deep as possible. When he
swallowed repeatedly, the muscles rippled around my tip.

Then it was my turn to shake. My buttocks clenched, my lungs

stopped working, I finally had to slam my head against the back of
the couch and squeeze my eyes shut as my orgasm finally won.

The world around me collapsed to one moment, one mouth,

one man. I shot down Leandro’s throat, incapable of pulling away

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

from the delicious heat even if I had remembered how I’d wanted
to come on his face. He gripped my ass, almost painfully, refusing
an inch until my cock finally stopped jerking, and even then, he
slid up only halfway, only enough to dislodge the head and let it
rest on his tongue. The sucking returned. In the aftermath of my
blistering climax, I would have normally pushed a lover off. My
cock gets too sensitive in those first few seconds after my release.
But Leandro treated it with delicacy, avoiding the crown and slit to
concentrate instead on the shaft.

After my erection had diminished, I tugged him off and let him

go, watching him sit back on his heels through heavy-lidded eyes.
“That was…unexpected,” I panted.

His nostrils flared, but he didn’t look away from my direct

stare. “I don’t jump every gorgeous man who knocks on my door.
You need to know that.”

I frowned. “I didn’t think you did.”
“But you are, you know. Gorgeous, I mean.”
“You didn’t even see all of me like you wanted.”
“Is that a hint?”
I shouldn’t play this game. By all rights, I should end this now,

button up, send him to the bedroom, and seal the threshold so I
could start what I’d been sent here to do. The clock was ticking. If
I continued this way, I would be out of time before I’d even begun.

My legs were too watery to move yet, though. And the sight he

presented too delectable.

“I want to see you instead.”
He cocked a brow. Without a word, he straightened and loomed

in front of me, allowing me permission to let my head rest on the
back of the couch as I watched his fingers dance along the buttons
of his shirt. I’d send him to the bed once he was naked. Then I’d

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

have the freedom and strength to do what was necessary. I could
still appreciate the show for now.

When his shirt hung open, he paused. The dark strip of skin

down the center of his torso made my mouth water.

“All of you.”
Leandro bowed his head. Slowly, he peeled the garment off his

shoulders, revealing sculpted muscles, taut arms, ridged
abdominals…

…and a tattoo emblazoned over his heart. Black and blue ink in

repeated infinity symbols, wound around and amongst each other
to create something entirely new.

To anyone who wasn’t me.
I licked my dry lips. “Where did you get that?”
He didn’t pretend not to understand what I was talking about.

His eyes burned into mine. “From you.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 4

I forgot about my orgasm. About my assignment. About the

fact that I was still sitting there with my cock hanging out and my
shirt undone in the house of a man I’d never heard of twenty-four
hours previous. I couldn’t stop staring at the etchings on Leandro’s
chest, a design of my own creation.

“That’s not possible.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Anything is possible.”
“The only people who believe that are zealots and idiots.”
He smiled. “Some people would think I fall into both

categories.”

The curve of those full lips threw me back into the blow job too

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

easily, and I hastily tucked myself back into my jeans. “I’m not
kidding, you know. That tattoo isn’t a laughing matter.”

“Do you hear me laughing?”
“But I don’t know you.” Without being so exposed, I could

finally stand. He was a tall guy, but I topped him by enough inches
to feel more in control, especially since I could feel it slipping
away from me with every word out of his mouth. “What game are
you playing?”

“I’m not.” He reached for my hand. When I jerked back, he

froze. “I know you don’t remember me. That’s the way you
planned it.”

“I didn’t plan anything.”
“Who else could have given me the tattoo?”
Who else, indeed?
“Caleb, if you’ll let me explain—”
“Enough!”
The vehemence in my voice triggered my baser magics I could

usually corral. The windows rattled in their frames, and a small
ceramic bowl on the hearth shattered, then disappeared. I didn’t
care. Someone had clearly set all of this up—the same someone
Lemuel was forbidden to tell me about—but that didn’t mean I’d
keep it from shirking my responsibilities. If anything, it hardened
my resolve. I loathe being made a fool of more than anything else
in this world, this plane or the higher. I would not allow this
unseen enemy the satisfaction of believing he—or she—had won.

He remained motionless as I side-stepped away from the couch,

though his eyes tracked my every move. I kept expecting him to
stop me. If he knew who I was, he knew what I was capable of,
unless his cohorts had failed to fill him in on the lengths of my
powers. The magic burned on the tips of my fingers, hungrily

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

waiting for escape. I had to curl my hand into a fist, lest it slip
from the reins before I reached the cabin’s threshold.

When I finally stopped, Leandro shook his head. “You were

always so stubborn,” he murmured.

His presumptive declaration infuriated me into action. I

touched the doorframe and hissed the sealing incantation, loud
enough so he wouldn’t miss it.

Nothing happened.
It’s not like it’s fireworks. Any release of my power has a

visible effect, like the bowl that I’d unconsciously erased from this
plane, but it’s rarely a big one. An audible pop or crackle, energy
moving amongst molecules, something. Sealing a threshold is no
exception, which is why I prefer to do it without witnesses.

Something should have manifested. The fact that it hadn’t…
Well, that’s never happened before.
“Are you ready to listen yet?” Leandro asked from behind me.
I whirled around. He hadn’t budged from his spot. “What are

you?” I demanded. That had to be the only explanation. He had
powers of his own and he was blocking mine.

“Human. Just like I’ve always been.”
“Then how did you do this?” I yanked the door open, looking

along the jamb for any sign of tampering. Hexes, religious
symbols, anything that could have impeded my incantation. Other
than some loose insulation, all I saw was smooth wood.

“You did it. When you gave me the tattoo.” He wrapped his

arms around his bare torso. “Do you mind closing the door? It’s
freezing outside.”

I did, but only because I was cold, too. “Why do you keep

saying that? If I’d had anything at all to do with sharing my design,
I’d remember.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

The shake of his head could only be described as forlorn. “Not

if you’d erased me.”

“If I’d erased you, you wouldn’t be standing right there,

annoying me to death.”

“You can’t die.”
“How do you know that?”
“The same way I know you have these same tattoos running

down your arms. And that you prefer cats to dogs. And that you
sleep on your stomach with the blanket over your head. Because I
know you, Caleb. I can explain all of this if you’ll only just listen
to me.”

I don’t know if I had much of a choice. My options were

limited. If I couldn’t seal the threshold, I couldn’t guarantee
keeping him in one place until my assignment was complete. If I
left, I would face punishment for my failure. Hearing him out
might prolong the inevitable, but it might also provide some
answers I could use against him, should the opportunity arise to
actually finish my task.

“Sit,” I said. Surprisingly—or maybe not so, considering how

he’d been obeying my orders since I arrived—he did. “Tell me
first. Is Leandro Warnell even your real name?”

“Leandro is. Warnell’s just the latest last name I’ve had to

use.”

“The latest? How many aliases have you used?”
He gave a rueful shrug. “I don’t even know anymore.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t have your ability to manipulate memories.

When I don’t die, people remember.”

He’d claimed to be human. The problem with that was, humans

had an expiration date.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

My gaze fell to the tattoo he made no attempt to hide. Mine

were wards, burned into my flesh upon my creation, meant to
protect me from the ills that might befall me on the terrestrial
plane. I was the only one of my kind to have this design, because
they had been forged from my own blood.

Without my blood, they held no power. It was just a tattoo.
The questions drew me forward. One step. Two. “You knew

me when I knocked at the door.”

“Yes.”
“Did you know I was coming?”
He took longer to answer this one. “Yes.”
Damn you, Lem.
I kept my calm, staring at him unblinking. “Who set this up?”
“It’s not a—”
“Who?”
His mouth snapped shut, and for the first time, he looked away

from me. A muscle in his jaw twitched, evidence of some emotion
he struggled to keep in check. Anger? Sadness? It certainly wasn’t
glee, but I wouldn’t know without asking.

I was already weary of my ignorance. I had spent too many

years, too much of my existence, with the power to divine
everything I needed. I couldn’t even guarantee what I’d learned
about this particular man in my research was true.

When it became obvious he wasn’t going to answer my last

question, I took enough steps to reach the coffee table and sit on its
edge. “Why would I give you the tattoo?” He claimed to know me,
and yes, the random details he’d shared were more than accurate.
If this was the case, there had to be a valid reason justifying the
tattoo’s existence.

I don’t know if it was my gentler tone or the choice of query

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

that brought him back to the conversation. The eyes that met mine
were bleak, the corners of his mouth tight as he tried to rein in his
emotions further. My hand itched to reach out and smooth the lines
away, an urge almost impossible to resist.

So I didn’t. And when my thumb brushed over his lower lip, it

trembled.

“You said it was to protect me,” he whispered. “You said it was

the only way.”

Now that he was speaking again, I really should have dropped

my hand back to my lap. I didn’t. I continued to caress his face in
slow, hypnotic strokes. The heat bled from his skin, degrees hotter
than I expected. He almost felt feverish, but there was no sign of it
in his cheeks or eyes.

“Protect you from what?”
“Death.”
“Why would I do that? Every human dies. It’s the nature of the

cycle.”

His tongue appeared, moistening his dry lips. “Because you

loved me.”

As simple as that. The best lies are based on truth, and those

who toss them about understand that complexity will ultimately
destroy them. This had all the making of a lie, were it not for one
small, irrefutable detail.

I could easily imagine loving this man.
With a sigh, I touched his mouth one more time before finally

letting my hand fall. “You wanted me to listen. Well, I’m doing it.”

“Do you believe me?” Though the words were direct, his eyes

were desperate.

“I don’t know what to believe right now.”
“It’s overwhelming.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“More like confusing.”
“We knew each other.”
I snorted. “I already drew that conclusion.”
“Intimately.”
“You know how I prefer to sleep. I figured intimately was a

given, too.” I remembered the way he’d dug into my slit, eliciting
the response he’d wanted. Foreknowledge? Did it feel so good
because he knew how to play my body to his whims? “When?”

“We met in 1553.”
My eyes narrowed. I knew exactly where I’d been that year.

The question was, did he? “Where?”

“St. Jago de la Vega. I was a slave. You traded with the

Spanish bastard who owned me, then set me free.” A ghost of his
earlier smile returned. “I wasn’t the first you did that for.”

Few had known about my private deals. I’d done it the first

time in the thirties, not long after I’d arrived in Jamaica, when I’d
been assigned a female slave named Agueda. My reasoning had
been that it would be easier to erase her existence if I separated her
from the slavery machine. It had been. But her gratitude when
she’d realized I had no intention of raping her, or beating her, or
using her in the myriad ways her previous owner had done had
inspired me to wonder what good I could do for other slaves.

I remembered none named Leandro, or any man who looked

like this. The timeline and actions fit, but the man did not.

Like he’d never existed.
Erased.
It shouldn’t have been possible to erase humans from my

memories, though. I wasn’t one of them. More, I needed full
accountability of everyone I took. The Higher Powers gave me
complete recall for that specific purpose. Someone, somewhere,

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

had to carry the information. That someone was me. I’d always
thought myself infallible in that regard.

Now Leandro sat there, telling me I’d been wrong.
“How are you still alive if you lived in 1553?” I asked.
“Because of this.” He placed his hand flat over the tattoo on his

heart. “I told you. It protects me. Like the ones on your arms
protect you. You used your own blood as ink. Don’t ask me how. I
don’t know, and you wouldn’t tell me. I didn’t even find out until
we were in the middle of the etching that there was a possibility it
wouldn’t even work.”

“Why not?”
“Because of the timing. You said the tattoo would protect me

from dying, from your kind of magic, from almost anything, but if
I got it too soon, you wouldn’t have erased enough of me. And if it
took too long to make, you would’ve erased me completely.” His
gaze cast downward. “I was a little pissed that you hadn’t told me
all of the risks, but I understand why you did it now.”

I scrubbed my hand over my face. I was getting a headache.

“I’m glad you do.”

“Is it really so hard to believe?”
“Which part?”
“Any of it.”
“Honestly? Yeah.” Abruptly, I stood and began to pace around

the room. Movement might help clear my head. “I’ve never heard
of anything like this before. Humans don’t live for centuries. I
can’t have memories stripped away from me. And I’ve never been
in love.”

His shoulders stiffened, but with his head still bowed, I

couldn’t see his face. I realized a moment later what I’d said. I
might not remember him or how I’d felt, but he did. He

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

remembered it all. Including his own feelings.

“What am I supposed to do with this now?” Because whether

he admitted it or not, this was a deliberate set-up, either by him or
Lemuel or—heaven forbid—someone else entirely. “You didn’t go
to all these lengths for nothing.”

“You were never nothing.” His hands knotted together, the

knuckles tightening. “Would it be so bad to just enjoy the time
we’ve been allotted?”

“What time? We don’t have any.”
“We have whatever we want. Nobody will interrupt us.”
“Just the Higher Powers when I don’t finish my duty.”
“It’ll be worth it.”
“For you, maybe.” His cavalier attitude about my forthcoming

punishments annoyed me. “If you know who I am, what I do, you
know what I face when I fail.”

His chin lifted, his melancholy masked beneath a stoic veneer.

“Do you know what I face when you fail?”

I shook my head. Even when my assignments weren’t perfectly

satisfied, the person involved was still gone. There were no
repercussions for a human who had never existed.

“I’ll finally get to die. Because I can’t do this anymore, Cal.

Not without you.”

He didn’t sound frightened. He didn’t look it. If anything, he

seemed determined, even desperate for the ultimate sentence.

His strength was compelling. I could never resist such obvious

displays. I almost imagined I remembered that same proud head
lifted in defiance, nostrils flaring as he stared me down. My pacing
stopped, and I returned to the couch, sitting next to him this time,
our thighs touching.

“Let’s say everything you say is true…” I held up my hand to

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

stop him from interrupting when he glanced over his shoulder at
me with a frown. “You can argue with me until you’re blue in the
face, but until I have proof, you have to admit it would be insane to
just go along with everything you’ve said.”

“What more proof do you need?”
“Something that shows we knew each other would be a good

start.”

“You erased all that.”
“You don’t have any mementos?” But as soon as the question

escaped my lips, I knew how foolish it was. Of course, he didn’t.
It’s what made his story so perfect. Incapable of being proven
either right or wrong because I had destroyed all of the evidence.
“How did you ever get Lemuel in on this deal, then?”

“Who?”
I frowned. “You don’t know Lemuel?”
“Should I?”
“He’s my courier.” I paused. “He always has been.”
Had I tripped him up? Was this a detail a master fraudster had

overlooked? I regarded him carefully, watching his gaze slide
sideways in obvious search of memories.

“Skinny little guy?” he posed cautiously. “With bad teeth.”
I nodded. Lemuel hadn’t changed at all in the eternity I’d

known him. But the way Leandro carefully phrased his response
meant he wasn’t sure, either because they were details he hadn’t
bothered to memorize or he hadn’t seen Lem in a very long time.
Centuries, if he was telling the truth.

Which, the longer I listened to him, I was inclined to believe.
“I need to know how you found me,” I said. “If it wasn’t

through Lem…did you make a deal with someone?”

Silence.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I swallowed my impatience. “Were you bound from telling

me?”

More silence.
“Can you at least tell me if you did it all on your own or had

help?”

The growing weight of the quiet surrounding us was only

broken by the music he’d turned down. It eroded my last nerve,
and I settled a hand between his shoulder blades in search of some
sort of sign or indication that at least he was listening to me.

His skin burned. Beneath its fragile membrane, the muscles in

his neck and back trembled violently.

“Jesus,” I swore under my breath. He grew even hotter under

my touch. I half expected him to combust before my eyes. “What
is it? Is it the questions? All right, don’t worry about it. I’ll figure
out a different way to get the answers.”

Almost as soon as the words fell from my mouth, the tension in

his neck eased, the tendons disappearing back beneath smooth
mahogany skin. I’d already absorbed much of the heat coming off
him, but it was easy enough to tell even that was starting to ebb.
He had been bound, which meant someone else was involved. He
knew who it was, too, because otherwise, I think he would’ve tried
harder at letting me know.

But not Lemuel. He hadn’t even recognized that name.
That reminded me of Lem’s reaction when I’d asked. Personal

and punishment. He’d been bound to secrecy as well.

Any of the Higher Powers would know where I was. There was

no need to go to such lengths to draw me out. The others of my
kind? We bore no ill will toward each other. We’d each been
brought into the fold for different reasons. We rarely interacted. I’d
not even seen one of them since the nineteenth century.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

My hand still rested on Leandro’s back. I had the strongest

need to reassure him, as if none of this was his fault. Slowly, I
began to massage his strong, straight spine, working at each knob
with almost delicate care.

His shoulders slumped. A long, drawn-out sigh escaped. I

barely heard the words that came with it.

“I’ve missed you so damn much.”
I paused, halfway down his back. The ache in his voice

permeated my bones. How could I doubt our previous
involvement? His body sang with his desire for me, the attraction
between us electric and undeniable. Every one of my touches
elicited some type of response from him, honed by either
experience or sheer need, probably even both. And as difficult as it
was to believe I’d ever be so foolhardy to do what he claimed, too
many coincidences stacked in his favor.

I bent my head. I pressed my lips to the top of his spine. My

eyes closed in silent supplication, and I prayed fervently that I
could take this man and keep him for my own, without any of the
retribution that seemed inevitable.

I knew it couldn’t be.
But even an immortal can hope.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 5

Whether Leandro wanted to admit it or not, we had a problem.

Several, probably, but some more dire than others. Someone had
barred him and Lemuel from sharing any details with me, which
raised the question, did that boundary exist with anyone other than
myself? I would think yes. That was the smart, most thorough
means of keeping it a secret. But without testing that theory, it
would only be a guess. It also raised the ancillary question of why.

Not for the first time, I wished we weren’t in such a remote

location. I wanted to summon Lemuel, but he’d be limited to the
same means I was. Though my spell would force him to come,
he’d have to utilize mortal ways to get to me. That required time I
wasn’t sure we had. The only ones who could get to me without
the constraints of the terrestrial realm were the Higher Powers. I

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

wasn’t quite that desperate, yet.

My one immediate resource was Leandro. Acting on the

assumption that everything he had told me was true, he was the
only person alive who would remember the details of our
relationship. He alone would know why I’d needed to—at least
partially—erase him. He was the sole voice for a life I hadn’t
known I’d lived.

From where I sat on the couch, I watched him fuss in the tiny

kitchen, making lunch for us as I’d requested. He hadn’t balked
when I’d asked. He seemed genuinely eager to make me happy,
which, based on what he’d said, made sense. And it was oddly
gratifying to see someone go to such a bother for me. The soup he
pulled out of the freezer to heat up prickled my taste buds, the
scent of heavy, foreign spices and thick, red meat calling to mind
simpler times. I wasn’t so lost in thought not to know it had to be a
deliberate choice. Perhaps it was a specialty he’d made when we’d
been partners. But that proved, yet again, that he knew far too
much about me to make this anything but valid.

He had no mementos. Nothing for me to rifle through, nothing

for me to read. I could ask him to retell stories, but they’d be
subject to the filters of his emotions. He’d select tales that
resonated personally for him. They might not necessarily pertain to
the problem we faced at hand.

I was curious, though. For all the drawbacks to our

circumstances, he was a magnificent looking man. It was easy to
believe in my draw to him. I wanted to hear about hours we might
have spent fucking, or the times he made me laugh, or times I
might have made him cry. When you live forever—or almost
forever, anyway—anything new is good. These would be
especially so, because they would be about me. We walk through

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

our worlds, mortal or not, with one thing in common. Ourselves.
Self-interest has driven both man and demon since time began. I’m
not vain to want fresh details. The man who denies egocentricity is
a liar.

But those were indulgences for another time. For now, I needed

to understand why I could ever think erasing someone almost
completely was a good thing. And how it could be done in the first
place.

My reluctant gaze slid from Leandro to the various items

around the room. He’d chosen the locale specifically because it
would isolate me. I had to admire him for that. But he’d also
turned the cabin into a haven, one meant to mean something to
both of us. The cat, a lean Siamese with the shrewdest blue eyes
I’d ever seen on a four-legged animal, had emerged from the
bathroom the first time Leandro had opened the refrigerator. She’d
taken one look at me, sniffed, then settled on the seat of a chair
nearest to Leandro. I couldn’t fault her for having excellent taste.

The stereo and guitar were the most obvious added elements.

Music was important to Leandro, though I had yet to ask why. He
used the guitar both to relax and focus. While he cooked, his hands
often beat out a barely heard rhythm in between tasks. They were
just quick snatches, so brief anyone might have missed them if
they weren’t specifically scrutinizing the man. I wasn’t even sure
he realized he did it. Such an automated action said a lot about
him. And gave me the best way to get to the source of what I
needed.

When he saw me rise from the couch, he merely watched me

out of the corner of his eye. He spoke only when I picked up his
guitar and turned it over in my hands.

“Since when have you started playing?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“I don’t. I’m curious if you’ve always done so.”
Angling his body so he could stir and talk to me at the same

time, he smiled softly, his gaze drifting to the instrument. “Let’s
call them variations on a theme. I’ve always been musical. My
choice of expression has evolved over the years.”

“Did you ever play for me?”
“All the time. Did you want to hear something now?”
“I will, but not just yet. After we eat.”
He nodded, but his curiosity wasn’t slaked, especially when I

returned to the couch with the guitar in my lap. Though my magic
wouldn’t work on Leandro, that didn’t preclude objects within his
domain. Music was an ideal medium for him to share the details I
needed.

The strings were thicker than I’d imagined, the uppermost

heavy, the bottom oddly delicate. I strummed once, then grimaced
at the discordant noise that I created. This was most definitely not
my gift.

“You always were tone deaf.”
Leandro’s amused tone drifted over, but I needed to stay intent

on the guitar. “A smart man recognizes his weaknesses and finds
ways to compensate for them,” I said.

“Did you get involved with other musicians, then?”
He hid it well, but jealousy still lurked behind the words. “You

think I’ve been celibate for half a millennium?”

“Hardly.”
“You’re wondering if you’re unique.”
His shoulders stiffened. “I know I’m not. At least, not in the

way you’re implying.”

“If I knew more about you, I’d be able to answer that question

better.” I ignored his denial. We both knew it for what it was.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know. All you have to do is

ask.”

“I have a better idea.”
I finally piqued his interest enough for him to turn off the

stove. Or perhaps the soup was done reheating. Considering the
delicious smell hanging in the air, the latter was more than
possible.

“Tell me.”
“It requires sacrificing your guitar.”
He paused in mid-reach for a bowl, a frown darkening his

handsome features. I guess lunch really was ready. “Why?”

“I need to know more of what you remember.”
“I told you—”
“Without censorship.”
The scowl deepened. “I wouldn’t lie to you.”
“Not intentionally.”
“Not ever.”
“So the guitar is more important than my discovering the

truth?”

“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re protecting the instrument.”
“I’m wondering what you have in mind.” He turned his back on

me again, the bowls and spoons clattering from how forcefully he
set them down. “And what it’s going to take to get you to believe
me.”

“The guitar.” Well, the truth the guitar would help me glean

from him, but that was specificity that didn’t matter in the long
run.

“Fine.” His quickness to answer said more than his curt

response. The guitar might have value, but his desire for me to

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

trust him had more.

He carried the soup over, and I set aside the instrument for the

moment in favor of eating. The first savory bite almost made me
moan. Food didn’t taste like this anymore, at least not in the
homogenized US where convenience was king. I didn’t make small
talk. I didn’t even look at Leandro. All my attention was on the
bowl of heaven in my hands as I scarfed it down, uncaring that I
probably looked like some kind of wild animal who hadn’t eaten in
weeks.

I was done before Leandro had taken a single bite. When I set

the bowl down, mildly embarrassed at how I’d let go, he was
regarding me with a half-smile, the annoyance I’d inadvertently
triggered gone.

“Any particular reason you ate that so fast?” he asked quietly.
“Because it was wonderful. Thank you.”
“No other reason?”
I hesitated. Had he put something in the soup? Was I so off my

game that I’d let him poison me in some way? “Should there be?”

His smile faded. Lounging back into the corner of the couch, he

swirled his spoon around in his bowl, gazing at the eddies he made
in the broth rather than me. “I guess I hoped you’d remember it.”

I looked back to my empty dish. He’d made me something we

used to eat together, and I hadn’t even realized. My taste buds had,
though, as well as my nose when he’d been cooking it.

Sensory memories. I wondered if that had happened with

anybody else I’d erased. I didn’t stick around afterward to dig into
the long-term effects. Of course, Leandro was a unique case. He
was still here to give the memory context.

“It really was delicious,” I said, hoping that would assuage

some of his hurt feelings.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I watched his profile carefully. Though he kept his eyes

downcast, his mouth softened, and additional heat radiated from
his skin. “Have you learned to cook yet?”

“Not like this.”
More relaxing, and he finally filled his spoon. “The first time I

made this, you ate the whole pot. I thought you always ate like
that, so I started cooking even more. A week later, you asked me if
I was trying to fatten you up or something.”

I smiled. “It would take a lot for that to happen.”
“You’ve always had a high metabolism.” He snuck a glance

sideways. “You still look like perfection.”

His compliment, given almost shyly, brought back the look on

his face when he’d sunk to his knees, a mixture of awe and hunger
that had my cock twitching again. As much as I didn’t want to, I
tamped down my reaction to him, at least for the time being. I
needed to get the answers before I could even consider taking more
of what he was so freely offering. Control was in order here. I
needed to keep it, and if he knew me at all, he needed me to want
it.

“Gaining access to what you know will help me figure out what

to do next.” Changing the subject was my safest course of action.
“Since my powers won’t work on you, I need to get it another
way.”

“And asking really isn’t a viable option?”
“No. You’ll select which details to share. I need all of them.”
Leandro sighed. “Sometimes, you really are a greedy bastard.”
I sincerely hoped he was referring to the assignments he’d

witnessed in the time we’d been together. “Without all the details,
things can go wrong. We can’t afford that.”

“So what are you suggesting?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I picked up the guitar again. “Creating a conduit that draws the

pictures from you. Think of it like…unraveling a sweater. Each
note you play will pull out another stitch, another detail.”

“How?”
“It’ll be linked to me. I’ll absorb the images it evokes.”
“Wait a minute. Does that mean I’m going to lose those

memories?”

At his panicked tone, I shook my head. “You’re sharing them

with the music, not giving them away. But for me to get them from
the guitar, I have to use subtractive divination. That’s why it’s
going to destroy it when I’m done.”

He still seemed unsure, but slowly nodded. “Promise me I’ll

still remember, and you can do whatever you want.”

I rested my hand on his knee and squeezed. Convincing him of

my sincerity felt like my biggest priority at the moment. “You have
my word.”

From the look on his face, I thought he was going to toss aside

his soup and come in for another kiss. I can’t even say that I would
have stopped him if he did. His lips glistened from the broth, and I
was already attuned to everything his body kept doing, from the
way his jeans stretched across his thighs to the small flickers of his
fingers as he fought to subdue his own urges. I wanted him. No
two ways about it. And the longer I stayed in his company, the
more I prayed I’d figure out how to keep us alive on the other side.

I busied myself with the guitar to keep from acting on my

desires. For an inanimate object, it carried a distinctive life force,
understated and delicate like the music Leandro created with it.
There were shades of Leandro in it as well, though that wasn’t a
surprise. Many musical instruments become imbued with their
owner’s essence, as they’re often vessels meant for conveying

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

strong emotions. Because of the residual emanations left behind in
them, this wasn’t the first time I’d used a divination on one, though
it was the first I’d used without also stripping the human, as well.
The risk in leaving behind even a trace was too great, and music,
any kind of music, too powerful.

The strings caught each word that fell silently from my lips,

absorbing the commands and vibrating in revolt. A high-pitched
hum set in, growing louder the further into the incantation I got. It
settled beneath my skin, attempting to wrest away the leash I’d
thrown around it, and I closed my eyes to brace against the
intrusion.

Nobody likes being destroyed. Humans bleed and scream. This

thing of beauty, something as loved and cherished as the guitar
was, fought back in the only way it knew how.

Though I couldn’t see him, I felt Leandro’s tension as I

finished the divination. The sounds of his breath disappeared.
Added heat filled the space between us, as much from him as it
was from the magic. When I finally lifted my hand away from the
guitar, beads of sweat sprinkled along my forearm.

“All you have to do is play it,” I said, resting it against the edge

of the coffee table. The humming was gone. The only voice it had
left was the one Leandro’s memories would give it.

He’d stopped eating while I’d worked. He stared not at the

guitar, but at my hands, his nostrils flaring in alarm before I had
the chance to tuck them away. “You’re hurt.”

I curled my fingers inward, too loose to be a fist, too tight for

him to see. “It’s nothing.”

“It looked like it burned you.”
So he’d seen more than I’d hoped. “It’ll heal.”
“I don’t remember you getting burned before. You never even

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

had a paper cut. After…well, I always thought you were
indestructible.”

I had been. Until last night when his image pricked my thumb.

The burns on my fingertips didn’t bleed, but the heat from the
strings had still managed to singe my flesh. That had never
happened before.

So many firsts. All because of Leandro.
He waited for some kind of response, but I had none to spare.

“Are you ready?”

He frowned. “You’re not telling me something.”
“I guess we have more in common than you thought.”
“The difference is, I’d tell it all if you’d only let me.”
“I am letting you. The best way I know how.” Since he hadn’t

actually answered my question, I nodded toward the guitar. “Pick it
up.”

Steam still curled away from his half-full bowl, but he’d lost all

interest in his lunch, too busy scowling at me and my
noncompliance. He set it aside and reached for his instrument.
“What do I have to do?”

“Just think about the time we spent together. Focus on what

happened right before I gave you the tattoo.”

“That’s it?”
I watched avidly as his hand curled around the guitar neck. His

fingers glowed from the magic soaked into the strings, tiny stripes
of translucence that sent a shiver down my spine.

“And play.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 6

The first thing I felt was heat. All over. Wrapped around my

naked body, almost smothering me, but I didn’t feel alarmed. I
felt…content? Satisfied? Almost. The emotion felt familiar, but
richer than any label I could put on it.

That was when I knew the divination had been a success. I’m

very well aware of my own feelings, having been stuck with them
for the centuries I have. This was new, almost foreign.

Not mine, though it felt like it.
Leandro’s.
I concentrated on the sensations. Though I had been

annihilating memories and personas since my creation, my
experiences with them were more cerebral than visceral. I learned
facts. A gentler soul might be able to assimilate those facts into

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

something more evocative, but I had always dealt with the reality
of what I was given. It was just my way.

This…I did not know what to make of this. I hadn’t anticipated

just how involved I would be in absorbing what he knew. I could
stop it with a few simple words—the power was within my
grasp—but then I would be back where I started, with no clues
about why I would have done this to Leandro, or who might have
muzzled him from telling me who helped him now. Continuing
was really the only option I liked.

The newness wasn’t completely unwelcome. This was why I

stayed involved in the modern world. Years upon years of the same
old thing can wear a soul down. This heat, embracing and
encompassing, was gossamer where my trek northward had been
weights around my neck. I would take it and relish it while I could.

Now that I was placed in the moment, I began to dissect each

sensation. The warmth surrounding me wasn’t formless. It had
power, and hardness, and separation of limb. A body, male and
larger than my own.

Larger than Leandro’s. Like my physical form was.
We lay on a firm surface that was covered in a thin, slightly

scratchy fabric, and lips pressed to the back of my neck. The arm
draped around my waist moved slowly, caressing my flat stomach,
and my body stirred in response, heat billowing deep within my
gut. My cock was already erect. I was smiling in my drowsy state.

I opened my eyes to gaze down upon the arm that held me still.

It was a little off-putting to see my tattoos on flesh not my own,
but there they were, trailing over my tanned skin. They ran the
length of both arms, encircling my wrists like cuffs. The marks
served dual purposes—protection against the mortal plane and
bonds to the Higher Powers—and the feelings surging within me,

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as Leandro, swelled with pride.

The emotion confused my true self. Why would Leandro, a

man of the terrestrial realm and not of the Higher Powers, have
pride in marks that had nothing to do with him? In search of the
answer, I filtered through the memories that were already taking
root inside my consciousness, and found it in a most unexpected
place.

Leandro had helped extend them.
I almost broke the connection right there.
It’s one thing to be taken off-guard by the intensity of feelings I

didn’t recognize. It’s another thing entirely for something I took as
simple truth to be revealed as deception, even partially. My tattoos
were mine. Mine. My blood, my servitude, created long before
Leandro should have ever come upon the picture. Yet, here he had
extensive knowledge of a ritual I had no memory of, of watching
the tattoos take shape around my wrists, springing from nothing to
pulse with the life force that protected me from the dervish of
outside dangers.

Even more surprising was discovering these were not the

immediate memories I’d asked him to focus on. These were older,
buried in the annals of our first months together.

Movement distracted me from my ruminations. The arms

around me tightened, almost painfully so, then withdrew as I—my
Caleb self from the past—rose from the bed…

* * *

Leandro rolled over to watch Caleb stand and stretch. The

muscles in his broad, corded back rippled, the skin stretching over
them deceptively perfect. Leandro knew better. He knew he could

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mark the golden expanse with love bites and finger marks, even if
the results were fleeting. He loved seeing the proof of their joining
in the body of his lover, holding on harder, pressing in deeper so
the bruises would linger a few seconds longer. Caleb laughed
about them afterward, but Leandro saw the way he caressed the
spots when he thought Leandro wasn’t looking. He knew they
meant just as much to Caleb as they did to him.

The morning light filtered around the shutters of the windows

of their tiny home, creating the same halo around the edges of
Caleb’s body. The house was little more than a hut, a single room
filled with the necessities of their lives together, but Leandro loved
it more than any he had ever known. He remembered little of his
life before being ripped away from Africa, and while the plantation
of his owner had been lush and luxurious, it was yet another
reminder of how little Leandro actually had. Caleb had saved him
from a life without meaning except that which his owner might
demand. He had given him purpose, a sense of self. Leandro would
have loved the man for that alone. Having him as both lover and
partner only sealed the fate of his emotions forever to come.

“Why are you up so early today?” Leandro patted the space in

bed next to him, letting the blankets fall back to reveal his ready
flesh. “Come back.”

“I can’t.” Hazel eyes glanced over his shoulder, but even that

brief contact burned into Leandro’s soul. “Though not because I
don’t wish to.”

“Do you have duties?”
Caleb ignored current fashions favored by the Europeans to

wear his dark blond hair cropped short. In times of stress, he often
scrubbed his hand over it, standing it all on end. Leandro frowned
when he did this now. What could be bothering him?

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“Lem has sent word he requires a meeting this morning. I have

to be ready for him.”

“Another assignment?”
“Most likely.” Though his tone suggested he believed

otherwise.

Leandro didn’t press. He wasn’t sure how he felt about how

Caleb was forced to serve out the time of his existence, except to be
glad it had crossed their paths like this. But with each new task
given to him by the so-called Higher Powers—beings Leandro had
never seen nor heard, but had no choice but to believe in because
Caleb did—Caleb’s mood became a little more morose, a little
more solemn…

* * *

Leandro’s memories cut away from the bucolic morning scene

to events later in the day. The new angle of sunlight streaming
through the now-open windows would have been proof enough,
even if I didn’t have that unspoken certainty that came from
Leandro’s self. I was washing my hands in a basin of cold water,
scraping away sawdust from beneath my fingernails. I’d spent the
day sanding my latest carving, an instrument I hoped to play very
soon. I was just waiting for Caleb to return home.

Worry kept trying to overcome my outward calm façade.

Though Caleb was often gone for several days at a time when he
was on assignment, his meetings with Lemuel were brief affairs.
Never had one stretched as long as this. It had been unusual
enough that it occurred beyond their home’s walls. Lemuel liked to
come in and socialize for as long as Caleb would let him get away
with before they got down to business.

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This was different. And alarming. And I had no right to feel

anything but grateful to my lover, but still, I couldn’t shake the
rising tide of fear within my gut.

* * *

Sweat dried on the back of Leandro’s neck, a welcome mantle

from a hard day’s labor. His shoulders ached from the constant
back and forth of his sanding, but a swim would work wonders to
relieve the tension. Though a massage would be better, without
Caleb around, he lacked the extra set of hands necessary to do the
job. He would take what he could get, and perhaps, when Caleb
returned, he might be able to coax his lover into something more.
If his visit with Lemuel didn’t demand immediate action.

He left everything behind to make the short trek to the shore.

They had chosen this particular spot for its proximity to the ocean.
Caleb mostly tolerated Leandro’s fascination with it, but they both
enjoyed the comforts it afforded. Many an hour had been spent in
its waves, then baking on the sand, Leandro curled into his lover’s
chest, sore and sated. He loved that strip of land almost as much
as he loved their home.

When he rounded the edge of the trees, he saw their beach was

not quite as deserted as it normally was. Caleb stood like a
sentinel, staring out over the quietly lapping water. His shirt
strained across his back from how tightly he folded his arms over
his chest. Even from that distance, the tense line of his jaw was
visible.

Caleb didn’t turn around, but Leandro knew his approach

wasn’t stealthy enough to fool him. He remained stiff as Leandro
wrapped his arms around Caleb’s waist and rested his cheek

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

against his back.

“How long have you been out here?”
“Since Lem left.”
“When was that?”
“I don’t know. This morning?”
Leandro frowned, glad Caleb couldn’t see him. He’d been out

here all this time? Why?

“Do you have a new assignment?”
“In a manner of speaking.” A tickle came across the back of

Leandro’s hand. Caleb was absently caressing it. “There’s a lot of
change on the horizon.”

“For you?”
“For everyone.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” Caleb sighed, though nothing about him actually

deflated. “We do what we must.”

Though he waited for elaboration, it didn’t come. Caleb’s

usual reservation was always more pronounced when it came to
his work. He was more driven than anyone Leandro had ever
known, more focused on doing a good job, even if it was
unconventional. But as much as Leandro would like to help, he
knew he would be kept outside of this task as much as he’d been
left out of everything previous.

“How long will you be gone this time?”
“I won’t be.”
“Wait.” Leandro released his hold to slide around and gape up

at Caleb. The first time he had seen Caleb Marks, he’d thought the
man almost too pretty in his natural beauty. His mouth was full
and always looked like it had just been kissed, and the dimple that
played in his cheek when he indulged in smiles only accentuated it.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

For having fairer hair, his lashes were thick, dark, and long,
framing his kind, intelligent eyes so that it was impossible to look
away from them when he gazed at you. Leandro had learned about
the hidden strength later. He loved him even more for it. “You
always have to leave for assignments. There’s nobody here but
us.”

“It’s not that kind of task this time.”
“You have other duties?”
Caleb’s mouth pressed into a hard line, and he lifted his eyes to

gaze out over Leandro’s head. Leandro hated it when he did that.
He’d told Caleb that a long time ago. Caleb apologized for the
slight, using his lack of real emotional involvements in the past as
an excuse, and most of the time, stuck to his promise to not do it.
He failed when his mind refused to settle, when his thoughts were
too tumultuous to keep leashed in the stricture Leandro requested.

“I do what I’m told,” he said. “Sometimes, they are not

necessarily pleasant tasks.”

He’d never complained about his position before, even when

he’d fallen ill not long after they became lovers. Leandro stared at
Caleb like he was viewing a stranger, wishing he knew more about
the beings that controlled Caleb’s every move. What could they ask
that would trouble Caleb so profoundly? He didn’t dare ask. He
didn’t want to put Caleb into the awkward position of denying him
the truth. But he wished fervently that he could, anything to ease
Caleb’s burden.

“Do you have to start now?” he asked.
Caleb broke away from his reverie to gaze down at him with a

frown. “Why?”

Catching Caleb’s wrist, he began to back up toward the rolling

surf. “Because I came out here for a swim, and I think it might do

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

you some good, too.”

Caleb allowed Leandro to draw him forward, some of the lines

easing from his brow. “If I had my way, I’d never start,” he said in
a moment of rare openness. “I’d forge walls around our home here
and blockade the whole world out for eternity.”

“I like the sound of that. Just you and me. Forever.”
“Forever…”

* * *

“No more.” I gasped, breaking the connection.
My eyes flew open to see Leandro slowly setting down the

guitar, but my racing heart had spots dancing in my vision, blood
red and white hot to match the heat seeping from my pores. Sweat
glued my shirt to my back and my hair to my temples, and the light
scruff of my beard itched from the dampness.

But I was frozen in place, trying to decipher the rampaging

confusion coursing through my thoughts and flesh. Emotions that
ran so deep, I ached even when left with only their memory.
Possibilities that went against everything I believed, presented in
my voice, with my face. Truth that shouldn’t have been, because
its existence threatened the very world I’d created for myself.

Leandro slid off the couch, crouching on his knees in front of

me. His concerned gaze was as gentle as the touch of his fingertips
along my forehead, where they gathered the perspiration and left
me cooler. My sight cleared, but my eyeballs burned, like I’d been
crying for hours with no respite. I blinked and felt moisture along
my cheeks.

“Why the tears?” Leandro whispered.
His meaning sank in and surprised me. Lifting my hand, I

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swiped the tears away from my skin, tasting my salty fingertips in
confirmation of their cause. “I don’t know.”

“Those were good days. Nothing to be sad about.”
“I’m not sad.” At least, sadness was one of the few emotions I

didn’t think I was feeling.

He regarded me for several seconds, then nodded.

“Overwhelmed.”

Yes. That was it exactly.
“Did it help?”
Did it help?
My brain was stuck on repeat, chasing its tail in its fruitless

search for reason. I still had no idea who was behind Leandro’s
current contact, or why Lemuel was barred from talking about it. I
didn’t know the details of why I’d gone to such lengths to erase
Leandro from my memory, mostly because he didn’t know. I had
more questions now than when I started, and frankly, the new ones
made the old ones seem relatively tame.

Like…why had Leandro helped me extend my tattoos?
Like…how could I have been sick, when I was never sick?
Like…what could have possibly been coming that would make

erasing this man who had loved me with all of his being my only
option?

Tender, brown eyes gazed at me in expectation.
This man still loved me. And the residual effect of living

through those unrestrained emotions triggered echoes of similar
feelings deep in a heart I’d long thought shut off.

I lacked the answer for which he waited. I did not, however,

lack the desire that had sparked between us from the start. From
before the start. From memories I wished more than anything I
had.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

I bent my head and kissed him. Because the question of our

attraction was the only one I knew the answer to.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 7

Memories made all the difference. Even if they weren’t really

mine.

Leandro opened immediately, inviting me in to take as much as

I wanted. Who was I to deny him? Or myself? We’d been
separated for over four hundred years. He’d had whole lifetimes
without me in it, and I suddenly wondered if I’d just been killing
time until he showed up again. It was entirely possible he’d had
other lovers in the interim—I certainly had, even if I’d be more
likely to call them fuck buddies than anything as intimate as
lover—but the way he responded to the simple slide of my tongue
into his mouth assured me they probably meant as little to him as
mine had to me.

He straightened, though remained on his knees, using his

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

greater height to better press into me. It was a mimicry of our
earlier position, him in pseudo control as he slithered down my lap
to get to my cock. As delicious as that had been, I knew better
now. He’d initiated everything the first time because he had no
other choice. I didn’t recognize him for who he was, who I was to
him. He much preferred it when I had the master hand.

Coiling my arm around his waist, I rose from my kneeling

position, hauling him upward at the same time. He gasped into my
mouth when his feet left the floor, startled into breaking the seal
and staring at me. A fresh fire burned in his eyes, and his nostrils
flared from his unspoken desire. Though his strength was
formidable, he was still human. I was probably the only being alive
who had ever manhandled him in this way, or reminded him of his
frailty.

The way he gripped my shoulders, his nails digging into my

skin hard enough for it to sting, said all too clearly how much he
liked it.

“What do you want?” His voice rasped like sandpaper, gone

hoarse in the face of his desire. “Anything, Caleb. Everything I am,
everything I have, it’s yours. It always has been.”

In that moment, I wanted to lick that beautiful brown skin all

over, and claim him as I’d clearly owned him in Jamaica. Time
was not on my side, however, and as ravenous as I was for him, I
didn’t want to waste any more than necessary. Later, I promised
myself. When I found the answers that would keep us both alive
and give us eternity. Then, I would use and abuse every minute he
gave me.

“You spread open on the bed.” I began to carry him toward the

piece of furniture in question, nestled in the far corner. “I hope all
your careful planning included buying lots of lube.”

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A wicked smile curved his generous mouth. “My careful

planning did more than that.”

My pursuit for clarification was choked in my throat when he

bent his head and sucked hard at my neck. My cock throbbed, and
my free hand squeezed his ass. The firm flesh clenched. We both
groaned.

“Was it always like this?” I asked.
He didn’t lift his head. “Always.”
And I’d burned it out of my memory? Was I insane?
His teeth scraped across my skin as he sought another patch to

gnaw at. My questions fled, chased away by the heat burgeoning
beneath the surface.

We jolted when the back of his legs hit the edge of the bed.

Rather than open my arms and let him tumble to the mattress, I
rested my knee at the foot and laid the pair of us down, stretching
out on top of Leandro as quickly as I could manage. He’d buttoned
his shirt back up while he cooked, and now, the fabric prevented
me from touching him the way I wanted, the way I craved. Without
having to hold him up anymore, I slid my arm out from behind his
back and clawed at the hem, trying desperately to push it out of the
way.

A single button went flying off. Leandro laughed, his body

rumbling beneath me.

“Now who’s the impatient one?” he taunted.
Reaching his arms over his head, he grasped the wrought iron

bars of the curved headboard, fists strong, eyes gleaming. As much
as I’d wanted to see him before, I wanted it even more now, but his
clothing hid the hardened lines of his torso. The temptation of that
sleek skin pulled tight over the sculpted muscles made me growl in
frustration, and I pulled even harder at the garment in my way.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

More buttons popped. The distinct sound of material ripping

tried to eclipse the roar of lust in my ears. It failed.

Now that I wasn’t surprised to see it, I stared at the tattoo over

his heart in fascination. The sweeping curves were utterly smooth,
each symbol balanced, each integration perfect. His erect nipple
was at its center, but the marks heightened his appeal rather than
suppressed it. I wondered how he’d felt as I’d given it to him, if it
had hurt when my blood had burned its way into his skin. I could
imagine him stoic in the face of pain, eyes steady on mine as I did
the task, love shining in their depths.

Without thinking, I bent my head and dragged my tongue along

the uppermost symbol. Leandro shuddered and arched away from
the bed.

“Yes…” he hissed. His eyes were shut, the sinew in his neck

standing out like a bas relief. I had the sudden urge to shake him
out of whatever memory or fantasy or movie he was playing on the
inside of his eyelids. It excluded me, whether he meant it to or not.
And that was absolutely unacceptable. I believed that all the way to
my core.

“Look at me,” I ordered.
Leandro obeyed, not hesitating even for a second. Our eyes

locked as he waited for whatever command I should issue next, but
I was too busy drowning in what I saw shining there. People didn’t
love me. I’ve been admired, revered, feared. I’ve been lusted after,
hated, respected. Depending on what role I played in a mortal’s
life, I could experience almost any kind of emotion from them,
sometimes with hardly an ounce of effort on my part.

But I couldn’t remember ever being loved. Not a single sexual

partner would have slipped into that category, no matter how good
the sex had been. And it wasn’t just because they didn’t stick

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

around for long. It went deeper than that. A disconnect, perhaps
because of what I did, what I was. I don’t know. I’d never really
given it any thought before now.

Leandro changed that. All of a sudden, I yearned to take those

emotions blazing in his eyes and wrap them around my lifeless
heart. He could resuscitate it. I knew he could. The prospect both
thrilled and terrified me.

Though my silence extended longer than I would have

normally allowed it, Leandro didn’t push me to speak. He waited
for me to catch up to where he’d been for centuries, and I knew,
deep inside, he’d wait even longer if that was what it took.

“Don’t let go.” I nodded toward his hands, though I was very

aware of the double meaning of my command. When I was
satisfied he wouldn’t move until I told him to, I sat back,
appraising the mouthwatering flesh I’d already exposed. The shirt
hung open at his sides. I’d leave that for now. I didn’t want him
letting go of the headboard just to remove it. But the jeans were
another matter.

Inching backward to give myself more room, I flicked open his

fly, deliberately avoiding touching his skin as I pulled the soft
denim down his hips. Leandro braced his heels on the bed and
lifted his ass when necessary, but not once did his gaze stray from
my face. I peeled the jeans away to reveal long, strong legs, just as
I’d imagined, and the most gorgeous, thick, uncut cock I’d seen in
years.

It lay heavily on his stomach, pearls of pre-come pooling at his

navel. I ran my finger through the sticky fluid and smeared it into
the tiny dip, wetting the skin until he glistened. The desire to smear
my come over him only got more intense with the image he now
presented, but that would have to wait a little bit longer, no matter

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

what a brilliant picture it would be. This first time—well, the
second, since he’d already swallowed one load—would fill his ass.
I had very specific plans for it.

Leandro spread his legs, and my gaze dropped to the dark cleft

behind his heavy balls. The sight there made me laugh out loud, a
sharp, rich sound I almost didn’t recognize.

“Feeling optimistic?” I reached forward and grasped the base

of the butt plug he wore, twisting it inside his channel. His cock
jerked, and his legs went rigid, so I did it again, just to elicit the
same reactions again.

“I didn’t want to waste time in case I got what I wanted.”
“I’m guessing, you mean me.”
“You’re the only thing I’ve ever wanted.”
Seeing him so decadently ready for me provoked the devilish

side I usually tried to keep under wraps. Grabbing the plug, I
tugged gently, freeing the thickest part before shoving it all the
way back in. Hard. When the muscles contracted around the slick
rubbery plastic, I actually salivated.

“My cock, you mean.” With my other hand, I worked at my

pants until I had my length free, and stroked it in plain view as I
continued to play with the plug. “Be honest here.”

His eyes had gone even blacker, lust winning out over the

emotion as he stared at the slow pulls on my shaft. “Your cock,
too. But not just that. Never just that.”

I refused to let his rough confessions get to me more than they

already were. I had to. Otherwise, I’d spend the next few days lost
in his body, in him, and we’d both be doomed.

“But it’ll do for now?”
His gaze jumped to my face. “I’ll take whatever I can get,” he

said.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

So much truth-telling in such a short time period was

overwhelming my better senses. I yanked the toy out of his ass and
tossed it aside, then stood to get out of my pants before I sank to
my knees and worshiped that pretty hole with my mouth. Leandro
kept his body stretched tight, and I wondered distractedly how
many bondage games we might have played together. In a place
like this, he was bound to have rope somewhere. I could always tie
him up for real and let him fight against the restraints until his skin
was enflamed and begging for me to soothe it.

The possibilities came fast and hard, too many to choose from.

I ignored them as best I could and returned to my place between
his legs. If I allowed myself to get sucked into the choices, I’d
waste even more time, let alone delay what we both hungered for.

I swiped my hand up and down his crack, collecting some of

the lube that had dripped out with the plug with my fingers and
then smearing it along my cock. It wasn’t much, but he’d been
wearing the toy for hours. His passage would be stretched and
ready for me, the walls already slick to allow for easier thrusts.
Pre-come helped, too. I was dripping enough to make the head wet.

Leandro noticed. The teasing son of a bitch licked his lips.
“Not this time.” I lined the tip up with his pucker, letting it rest

there for a moment as the muscles opened and closed, trying to
pull me in. “You got to taste me once already.”

“And you loved every second of it.”
“I never said I didn’t.”
The anticipation was killing both of us. Grasping my cock

behind the crown, I rubbed the fresh drops of pre-come around the
perimeter of his hole. Once I started fucking him, I wouldn’t be
able to stop, not until I’d emptied my balls inside him. Don’t get
me wrong. I wanted to get there, but I also wanted to make this

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

last. I wanted to savor each second I got with him. Which meant
putting off penetration as long as possible.

That plan went out the window with Leandro’s next few words.
“Please, Caleb. I need you.”
A tremor rippled through me. Realigning my cock, I drove

forward, forgetting niceties, forgetting gentleness, forgoing
everything but satisfying what we both required.

The muscles yielded to my onslaught, but only enough to give

me room to bury my cock all the way to the balls. Our bodies
slapped together, the backs of his thighs against my hips, groin to
ass, heat bleeding into each other so it was impossible to tell where
he ended and I began. My hands shook where I grasped his legs
and held them up. I dug into the tense quads, knowing there would
be bruises when I let him go, but if I didn’t, I’d probably fall apart.
He molded perfectly around my cock, more perfectly than should
have been possible. He clenched to hold me in, and when the strain
became too much, he relaxed for only a moment before clenching
again.

Our eyes met. Understanding passed between us.
“At some point, I have to move,” I managed to get out, in spite

of the tightness of my chest.

“Some point,” he agreed.
“Today.”
He flashed a wicked grin. “Are you sure?”
Not really, but I wouldn’t concede that weakness out loud.
His beautiful cock lay in temptation in front of me, the new

angle of his hips sliding his balls around the root of it. My fingers
itched to touch, but this was another desire I would have to deny
for now. I wanted him to come without touching it, to watch it jerk
and shoot all on its own because the pleasure was too powerful to

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

resist. As much as he might want to, I knew he wouldn’t let go of
the headboard to stroke himself. That left me to be the strong one
here.

I could, however, touch elsewhere. And the allure of that

puckered ring stretched tight around my girth was downright
beguiling.

I traced the uppermost curve with the tip of my finger, not

venturing inside, though he would take it—hell, he’d probably
welcome the added thickness. Leandro gasped, and his arms
quivered. Perhaps I’d finally found the threshold of his tolerance. I
tested the theory by caressing him again, even slower this time,
appreciating each wrinkle and ridge.

Defiance came in the jut of his jaw. His fists tightened.
I smiled. Resuming my hold on his legs, I slowly pulled out.

The sight mesmerized me in ways I more than recognized. The
male form was my biggest weakness, the contrast of strength with
softness, aggressor with prey. I loved its angular planes, the power
contained within its flimsy skin. I marveled at how it could be both
so potent and so fragile, all at the same time. I’d known since my
earliest existence that my obsession could prove my downfall. That
was why I exercised such tight control over my interactions, and
even more over my feelings.

Though I couldn’t remember the time we’d spent together the

first time around, I suspected it would take very little provocation
with this second time to create the tumultuous emotions again.
Leandro seemed to have a unique hold over me, regardless of how
well I might know him.

He began rolling his hips, moving to meet each of my slow

strokes. It was the only impetus he assumed. Otherwise, he gave
me the reins, granting me the permission to stoke each of our lusts

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

to their melting points. I would have taken it, but knowing he
offered it so freely was infinitely more rewarding. It spoke of trust,
of acceptance, more so than the look on his face. It would turn our
climaxes into infernos when they finally arrived. Few people
understand that orgasms are just as much about the mental as they
are the physical. Reach those deep, dark places inside a person,
those formless shadows that cannot otherwise be touched, and the
effect is explosive. It’s difficult to go back to the superficial release
after you’ve experienced how else it can be.

Leandro never closed his eyes. He came close a couple times,

lashes flickering when a thrust would scrape across his prostate in
just the right way, or my fingertips skimmed over his increasingly
sweaty skin, but each one was thwarted by his own sense of
control. He was not going to look away from me. I knew that
without him ever uttering a word. And in the face of such inner
strength, my respect for him grew. As did the desire to see that
control finally shatter.

I quickened in irregular increments, shuttling faster and faster

in and out of his hot ass until perspiration tickled down my
temples. Words failed me. My breathing was too ragged to provide
the necessary support to speak. Leandro’s chest rose and fell in the
same harsh rhythm, and when he gulped for air, I fought the desire
to lean down and suck hard at his Adam’s apple. I compensated by
finding new spots to touch, releasing one hand to smooth along his
stomach, carefully avoiding his cock, or brushing my thumb across
the loose skin of his sac. It was a worthy exchange.

When his legs began to shake, I realized he was close to the

edge, much closer than I’d expected or anticipated. As much as I
didn’t want this to end, I wanted to see him come even more, and I
added a new edge to my thrusts, forcing our skin to slap together

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playfully as I tore into his channel. Leandro gasped, and his spine
bowed away from the blankets.

In the next moment, his shaft jerked. Come splattered onto his

ribs and chest, and his ass clamped down around my length. The
walls trembled, creating the same vibrations along my cock, but it
was as much the look of bliss on his face that made me lose as it
was the force of his orgasm.

I couldn’t move. My body was locked, joints frozen, the world

black. All I felt was the pulsing around and through my cock,
reverberating into my veins to sear at lightning speed to every
nerve ending I possessed. Breathing was clearly optional at this
point. Mine abandoned me at the first moment of release. My only
choice was to hurtle over the precipice and pray I didn’t fragment
when I hit the bottom.

The sound of the blood rushing in my ears was slowly replaced

with a distant murmur, cadences familiar, tone like molten lava.
Air slammed back into my lungs, and I gulped it down, finally
focusing enough to see Leandro reaching for me. He’d let go of the
headboard, and the voice I heard was his, my name repeating on
his lips like a prayer. I caught his fingers, slightly misshapen from
how hard he’d been gripping the bars, and fell forward, heedless of
the fact that I was still buried inside him.

We kissed, and the slow, almost sweet slide of his lips nearly

undid me. Our interlocking fingers shook, as did my other hand. I
had to hide it by sliding it around Leandro’s shoulders and holding
him even closer.

Leandro smiled into the kiss.
Perhaps I wasn’t quite as clever at concealing my weakness as I

had thought.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 8

Though Leandro offered a tempting sight, stretched out naked

atop his blankets, his burnished skin gleaming against the paler
fabric, I shut the door on my libido and jumped into the shower
without him. I made it quick. I can’t say I trusted him not to jump
in with me, and honestly, if he did that, I might as well have just
stayed in bed with him. But the more I learned, the more I realized
I didn’t know. When your business is information, and keeping all
the details together or risk chaos, that’s more than a little
terrifying.

The way I saw it, I basically had one option. Get Lem’s ass

here and drag it all out of him. I had no idea how. If he was bound
by someone else, my magic would probably do squat in getting
past it. Still, I’d managed to find a way with Leandro, so I had to

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

trust that I’d be able to do the same with Lem. Plus, I had the
added advantage that Lem liked me. I’m not sure why. I’ve never
actually encouraged that friendship. But for centuries, he’d made
his admiration more than clear, in little ways like respecting mortal
manners by knocking on my door with a new assignment, or in big
ones like his direct questions about my current state of happiness.
He probably held some inkling of awe for my position in the
hierarchy. He was, after all, simply a messenger.

Still, whatever the roots of his respect, it was there. And I had

to believe that if I had problems—and the number of
impossibilities that had come up around this single assignment
certainly qualified as a big one—he’d be there to help me. As
much as he could, anyway.

When I emerged from the steamy bathroom, Leandro was still

on the bed, though now he sat on its edge, pulling on his socks. He
paused, and his appreciative gaze drank me in, lingering on my
bare chest and the few droplets that I’d missed while toweling off.

“It’s not too late to get naked again,” he said.
“You can get naked,” I replied. “I need to make preparation.”
His smile faded, replaced by a deepening frown, as he watched

me go to my pack. “What are you going to do?”

“The less you know, the safer you are.”
“Because ignorance has worked so well for you?” The bed

creaked as he rose. “We’re in this together.”

“Not through any fault of yours.”
“How do you know that? You don’t remember anything.”
I dug around for a different shirt, the one I would’ve worn for

the bloodletting ritual if this had been a normal assignment. It’s the
oldest garment I have, created when I was first made. Its age added
to its power. Crafted by Agia, the artisan to the Higher Powers, it

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had magic in every weft. The cloth had been woven from the down
of angel wings, then purified by the sun where the higher and
mortal planes met. When I wore it, I felt weightless, ready to
merge with sunbeams and race to the sky. I always found it ironic
it was vital in the most gruesome aspect of my work.

When I straightened to pull it over my head, Leandro gasped.

“What are you going to do?”

His horrified gaze was fixed on the shirt still in my hands.

“You recognize it?”

“Of course, I do. You wouldn’t even let me touch it.”
“Because it would hurt you. You’re mortal. Or you were,

anyway.”

The horror melted into confusion. “No, it didn’t. It’s just a

shirt, Caleb. No matter how much blood you wash out of it.”

That was part of its power. Anything mortal—blood, semen,

spit—would be washed away with a simple rinse. Leandro’s
memory of it was alarming enough, though it provided more
conclusive evidence he was telling the truth, but the fact that he
believed it wouldn’t hurt him was even more so.

“Why would you think that?”
His jaw clamped together, and his gaze slid sideways. After a

moment, I saw the decision flash behind his eyes as he deliberately
lifted his chin. “Because I touched it once when you weren’t
around. You’d forgotten to lock your chest, so when you went out
to bathe one day, I looked inside. I was curious. You were open
about so many things, but that…” He waved at the shirt in disgust.
“I thought about burning it, just to see how you’d react. But I knew
you needed it, even if I didn’t like what you had to do when you
wore it, so I put it back and never mentioned it again.”

Instinct told me to argue with him. What he claimed was

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impossible. The fabric was divine. Contact with mortal flesh would
send the person into agony, his skin incapable of resisting the fires
of the Higher Powers. At the very least, he would have had
blisters, and that would only be if he touched it for a fraction of a
second. But Leandro had no more reasons to lie, especially when
my knowledge and experience with the shirt proved otherwise.

I didn’t know how to respond to such accusations, so I simply

held my tongue and pulled it on, as I’d originally intended.
Leandro still stared at me after I was fully dressed.

“You still haven’t told me what you’re planning on doing in

that,” he said. “Your mark on me protects me from your cutting,
remember?”

A pang shot through my chest. He actually believed I would do

that to him now, in the aftermath of what had just happened
between us? His fear was palpable, though he tried to mask it with
that brave tilt of his head.

“I only brought two shirts for this assignment.” The tension in

my neck made my jaw ache. “And since this one isn’t one we can
cuddle in comfortably”—I held up my hand to cut off his protest—
“I’ll wear it for everything that doesn’t include you.”

“Which is whatever you’re planning on now.”
“Yes.”
“Which you’re not going to tell me.”
“Which I don’t have time to go into right now.” The heat was

rising within the small cabin. I grabbed my coat, though the
thought of putting it on—even to forge the cold outside—made the
back of my neck itch. “We need answers, whether you want them
or not. And I’m not willing to let you suffer because we’re both too
lazy to do anything about it.”

He was less than pleased with my response. I didn’t care. I

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

yanked the door open and stomped out onto the creaky front porch
with all the petulance of a teenager being sent to his room against
his will.

I didn’t care about that, either.
The sun was nearly lost beneath the edge of the trees on the

horizon, leaving the clearing in which the house sat gray and dim.
The temperature had dropped accordingly. The brisk walk I’d
enjoyed to get here would be far more unpleasant should I attempt
it now, though if I chose to leave, I could always get Leandro to
drive me in his truck.

I frowned. I hadn’t pursued the question of his non-Alaska

plates. He’d derailed our entire conversation by kissing me. I had
to assume he’d been living in Florida when he made the decision to
put an end to all this, once and for all, but we still had the enigma
of who had helped him make the arrangements. Was Florida a
clue? I didn’t know how it could be. It might as well have been
Maine, or Texas, or Wisconsin. But who had chosen Alaska? And
why?

I needed Lem. All these holes in my knowledge were starting

to make me feel like one of the condemned in Hades, forced to
carry water in a sieve.

Calling a courier isn’t difficult. It’s my only means of

communicating with the Higher Powers, outside of being
summoned to their presence for punishment. But I rarely bother
Lemuel unless it’s absolutely necessary. I have no idea what he
does when he’s not around me, how he spends his free time, if he
even has any free time. He tells me stories, but honestly, over the
years, they’ve blurred. I don’t know how much of them are true or
if they’re all make-believe.

If I was interrupting something this time, it was for an excellent

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

cause. The way I figured it, I’d saved enough good will with him
over the centuries to merit one episode of rudeness.

I looked around for the most conducive location for the spell,

though in all fairness, I could probably do it anywhere. Sites
devoid of mortal interference provide the clearest signals for this
brand of magic, quite the opposite for manipulating space to move
freely. The absence of artifice acts as a conductor for the Higher
Powers’ voice. It’s louder, clearer, and can travel greater distances
when man hasn’t corrupted the natural surroundings.

Settling on a towering western hemlock, I flattened my palm

against the rough bark and closed my eyes. Its pulse resonated up
my arm, hesitating at each of the barriers it found along the way.
The cuff around my wrist. The curves climbing my forearm. Its
clearance was greater on my biceps, where the spacing of my
tattoos were wider because of the muscle. My heart called to it,
pulling it closer, until the two beats merged into a single thrum.

My other arm stretched out to the side, parallel to the ground,

my fingers reaching for an unseen, out of reach target. The bite in
the air caught the hem of my shirt and sneaked beneath it, turning
the skin on my stomach to ice. I craved heat. And as soon as I
recognized the cold, my thoughts returned to Leandro, and the
scorch of his body stretched out beneath mine.

I should have felt a connection with the mortal plane at that

point, the energy in me reaching out to join with that of creation. I
didn’t. In fact, as soon as I thought of Leandro, the bond I’d forged
with the tree was severed, leaving me hollow and trembling as I
opened my eyes again.

Everything looked the same. The only thing that was different

was the image of a man who should have died centuries ago,
burned onto my brain.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

My gaze drifted to the cabin’s front door. Thoughts had power,

but not so much to surpass my own. A single whimsy should not
have broken my tether, and yet, I wasn’t any closer to calling
Lemuel than I’d been when I’d walked out of the house. The sun
was lower, too, the chill turning bitter and dangerous. I could risk
another attempt and hope to beat the elements, or I could go back
inside to the warmth of the fireplace and Leandro’s open arms, and
try again in the morning.

Weighed like that, the choice should have been obvious. I even

dropped my hand from the hemlock and took a step toward the
porch.

“He told you.”
Lemuel’s voice crackled in the air behind me. I whirled around

to see him lounging against a nearby tree, bundled in a down-filled
parka that dwarfed his scrawny size. His nose was bright red, and
several of the pustules had broken, shiny in the dying light. He
wasn’t smiling.

“What’s going on, Lem?”
When Lemuel shrugged, the jacket barely moved. He must

have been swimming inside. “You tell me.”

“If I could do that, I wouldn’t need you here.” I frowned. “Why

are you here? I didn’t finish the summons.” It dawned on me there
wasn’t a vehicle behind him, either. He hadn’t arrived via mortal
means. Jesus, was anything like I thought it should be?

“You didn’t have to,” he said, either ignorant of my confusion

or uncaring. “I’ve been watching you since you left Cali.”

Hardly standard procedure. He had other responsibilities, too.

“How? And why?”

“I hitched a ride with you on the plane. As for why…” He

shrugged. “Why not?”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“Are we going to play twenty questions now?”
“No, right now, I’m freezing my ass off.”
Frustrated, I stared at the tree that had failed me. Or that I had

somehow failed. It looked the same, as worn and weary as the
trunk next to it. I still had grit from the bark embedded in my palm,
though when I rubbed it away, some of it tore the skin, stinging
where it abraded.

“If you’re just going to stand there, I’m going to blow,”

Lemuel said. “Though a nice guy would invite me in, maybe let me
watch up close and personal?”

My head snapped up. I glared at him. “You watched

everything?”

His grin stretched from ear to ear, a macabre facsimile of

delight. “Can you blame me? You’ve always had the best taste in
mortals, Caleb. And this one?” He made a sucking sound through
his teeth. “Delicious.”

At my sides, my hands balled into fists. The urge to drive them

through his face and turn his whole body into an open sore burned
through me. “Don’t talk about him that way.”

“I guess that means you bought the show and tell.”
The way he phrased it made me pause. “Is it an act?”
“Which part?”
I blinked. “Any of it.”
“The beginning was. He wasn’t supposed to know you,

remember?” His grin widened. Somehow. “Or maybe you’ve lost
those, too. Isn’t all this just so much fun?”

That did it. I rushed the space he filled and pinned him to the

tree with one hand around his throat. “Tell me what’s going on, or
I swear I’m going to pop your head off like a dandelion.”

My threat of violence didn’t garner the fearful reaction I

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

wanted. Lemuel didn’t even squirm. I wasn’t worried about his
teleporting out of my grasp, since intent carries a lot of weight with
divine interactions, but he looked completely unfussed about my
fury.

“I can’t,” he said simply. “I’m bound.”
Which is why he had nothing to fear, because we both knew

any efforts I made to throttle the answers out of him would come
up fruitless.

The fight evaporated from my muscles, and my arm fell to my

side again as my shoulders sagged. “So what am I supposed to do?
He’s like a ghost when it comes to my magic. And I can’t
remember a damn thing.”

“Maybe it would help if you weren’t so good at your job.”
I snarled at him before whipping away, pacing back and forth

across our narrow edge of the clearing. The cold was a distant
thing, the creeping darkness more so. All of my thoughts were
turned inward, at the conundrum I’d somehow created by
instigating the whole situation with Leandro in the first place.

Lemuel gave me a few minutes to stew, though he didn’t

follow through on his threat to leave. Every time I changed
direction, I caught him out of the corner of my eye, lounging
against the trunk, tracking my every move. As amused as he’d
been earlier, he seemed just as contemplative now.

“He was always one of the bravest mortals I’ve ever spent

more than a minute with fully clothed,” Lemuel said.

It sounded like such an unnecessary observation, considering

what I needed to know. “He didn’t remember your name.”

A shrug. “Why should he? It was a long time ago.”
“So everything he said is true?”
“You jerry-rigged your way around the erasure. You tell me.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“It felt true.”
“Emotions are deceptive.” He paused. “Sometimes.”
“What about in this case?”
“Why are you so hung up on whether he’s lying to you?”
“Because if he is…” Everything I believed to be true was built

upon lies. Uttering the words aloud felt like sacrilege, though, and
my pace faltered, sudden nerves diverting my eyes to the black
hole the forest now presented.

“You don’t have a lot of time,” Lemuel said. “I told you this

assignment had to happen fast.”

“Why? Because of who bound you?”
A shake of his head. “I can’t tell you that.”
“Are you of any use to me, whatsoever?”
“That depends on how well you listen.”
“You have to say something for me to hear.”
“You know what your problem is, Caleb?” He pointed a

gnarled finger at me, though his tone remained deceptively
conversational. “You’re too rigid. All these years digging around
in people’s lives, ferreting out the minutiae, it’s glued your feet to
the path. To one path. And there’s a whole world out there you
don’t even see, because you’re too focused on your little corner of
it.”

“If I don’t stay focused, mistakes get made.”
“Sure. But you know what? Sometimes, mistakes still get

made, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about them.”

I had no idea what he was talking about. It wasn’t like him to

talk in such obtuse riddles. I’d always considered his blunt nature
one of his few redeeming attributes. When you deal with secrets
and dark corners, having someone throw the light switch was
always welcome.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

He sighed and dropped his hand. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t try.

Good luck. You’re going to need it.”

When he started to fold in half, narrowing out of my view and

away from any hope I had in fixing this, I leapt forward and
grabbed onto his shoulder. Light exploded where we touched, and
blistering heat shot up my arm. I cried out in alarm, yanking my
hand away, but his Houdini came to a halt, his form opening back
up again and resuming its weight.

From the force of the blast that had torn into me, I fully

expected to see a hand-sized burn mark on his coat. Except he
looked exactly the same.

The gaze I met was oddly sympathetic. “Are you all right?” he

surprised me by asking.

I flexed my fingers. Not a mark on them, but the residual heat

still crawled in my veins. I could have sworn I smelled burnt hair,
too, though that could have been the power of suggestion more
than anything else. “What did you do?”

“Why is it always about what I’ve done? Or what he’s done?”

He nodded toward the cabin at the last, referring to Leandro.
“Think about the pieces. You’re looking for the trees when you
should be trying to find the forest.”

Now, that actually made a little bit of sense. “There’s a bigger

picture here?”

Lemuel smirked. “Aw, there’s a brain that goes with that pretty

face, too. How adorable.”

My mind raced. Leandro couldn’t answer direct questions

when I asked them. Bound by the same rules even if he was divine,
neither could Lemuel. He suggested I listen, which meant he
thought he was actually telling me something. But what?

“Are you sticking around?” I asked.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“Is that an invite to come inside?”
“No, it’s curiosity about whether or not you’re going to keep

watching.”

Tilting his head to peer past me, he clicked his tongue as he

regarded the house. “Something tells me your friend won’t like it.”

I glanced back to see Leandro standing in the window. He

hadn’t pulled the curtains yet, and the flickering flames behind him
gilded his silhouette in gold. My body responded instantly. He was
dressed, and he wasn’t smiling, but temptation rested even in the
stiff set of his muscles. All my blood rushed to the surface of my
skin, pounding for escape, while my cock ached for any part of
him I could have, his hand, his mouth, his ass. He caught my eye,
but it wasn’t enough to wipe away the frown pulling his brows
together. It wasn’t enough to dispel my desire to go back inside,
either.

“He just wants to spend the next couple days in bed,” I said.
“Looks like that’s what you want, too.”
Though it was hard, I turned my back on Leandro. The image

of him was forever imprinted, however. And then I realized, that
no, it might not be. It had been erased once. Someone could erase
it again.

Lemuel’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
His mouth opened to respond, but only a choked growl came

out. Frustration twisted his features into a more gruesome mask
than usual. “I better go.”

“What? Why?” It felt like I was finally starting to understand

what I had to do. The answers might prove elusive, but he’d
supplied enough hints on how I might circumvent the roadblocks
in my way.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“Because—” Another choke, this one ended in a coughing fit.

Lemuel turned away and spat into the sparse snow. Speckles of
black broke its smooth contour, but the lack of crimson in his
blood was due to the darkness, not to anything else. Taking a long
breath, he shook like a dog shaking off a wet coat before looking at
me again. “I’d like to be able to see you again,” he managed to
grind out this time.

He left no time to parse his meaning. Folding in half happened

in the blink of an eye. Then, he was gone.

I had no more concrete answers than I’d had before he’d

arrived, though I was awash in more anomalies. Lem’s doubletalk,
too. His last words had hinted that if he didn’t leave now, he’d be
prevented from coming back. What could make that happen?
Whoever had bound him? Lemuel reported to the Higher Powers,
though some of the lesser beings could manipulate him to their
will.

The other possibility was that if he didn’t go, I wouldn’t be

there for him to see again. That option troubled me further. My
actions were always accounted for, though perhaps not always
monitored. I’d gained a measure of autonomy over the centuries. If
the latter was his true meaning, my faith in that autonomy was
misplaced.

Either way, someone else was paying attention to what

transpired here.

Considering the potential consequences, that couldn’t be good.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

CHAPTER 9

“Why Alaska?”
Rather than an explanation of what he might have seen, those

were the first words to come out of my mouth when I went back
into the cabin. Leandro sat on the floor in front of the couch,
petting the Siamese and failing miserably at trying to look
uninterested in what had transpired outside. I didn’t get in his face
to push the issue. I wasn’t sure how he would react.

This question, however, needed to be asked.
His hands stroked down the cat’s back, over and over again as

he kept his eyes focused there rather than on me. “It seemed
private.”

“Was it your idea?”
He paused. A tremor rippled beneath his exposed forearm. That

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

was a no.

“So someone else thought it was a good idea to get me up

here,” I answered for him before he had to fight the magic binding
him silent. My collar itched against the back of my neck, even
more so than it had earlier. I decided to change into my other shirt
again, both for the comfort it would bring and the fact that it would
allow me to get close to him again. “I still don’t know who, by the
way. Lem’s just as locked up as you are.”

“Is it so bad?”
“What?”
“Being here with me.”
I stopped, my shirt hanging open. “Of course not. I thought that

was clear.”

He shrugged. “It’s just that you seem to be in an awful hurry to

get away.”

“That’s not it.” Hurriedly, I yanked the shirt off the rest of the

way and tossed it aside. Though I grabbed the other one, I simply
carried it in my hand as I crossed to sit on the table in front of
Leandro. As soon as I did, the cat rose from Leandro’s lap, glared
at me, and sauntered over to the bed. “I’m interested in both of us
surviving this.”

“To do what?”
“Move on with our lives? Not be bled to painful proportions or,

I don’t know, destroyed in the most heinous way possible?” I
sighed. “I know you’re probably tired of living—”

“I’m tired of living without you. There’s a difference.”
That warmed a spot deep in my gut, but I kept it from showing.

We didn’t need more distractions. “So what’s the problem?”

He finally looked up at me. Misery like embers burned in his

eyes. “You don’t remember me. You don’t remember what we

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

had. Not really. The way it looks from this side, you’re racing
against the clock so you can get back to your cozy little life where
you don’t have any complications, or…” His eyes suddenly
widened. “Do you have someone else? Is that why you want to
move on with your life?”

The suggestion was so absurd, I laughed. Probably not the

kindest thing I’ve ever done, though kindness isn’t exactly written
into my job description.

Leandro’s jaw locked, the vulnerability that had been there a

moment previous hardening into a stone mask. “Sometimes, you’re
a real bastard, you know that?”

His accusation was an echo of my own thoughts, but not for the

reasons he thought. “No, there’s no one else,” I said, sobering. “I
haven’t had a relationship in…I don’t even know how long.”

“You’re not going to convince me you’ve been celibate for

centuries. I know how much you love sex.”

“Not centuries. But sex hasn’t been the same in…”
I searched for the most accurate estimation and failed. My life

had always been comfortable. I kept busy, though I realized now
that was a state more unique to the last hundred years or so than
before. It took time away from thinking too much about the voids
that might appear every once in a while, or at least, that had been
my rationalization. Now, seriously considering the events and
people who’d populated my existence in this mortal plane, there
didn’t seem to be voids plural, but rather one, long one, peppered
with the occasional spot of light.

The longer it took me to speak, the more Leandro’s facade

crumbled. His handsome features returned to their normal, open
state, though that meant the misery had come back, too. It wasn’t
quite as strong as before, but its presence still wrenched at me.

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

“The sex with you today was the best I’ve had in too long,” I

said instead. “Maybe you think I love it so much because of how
good it is between us.”

His eyes narrowed a fraction, wariness creeping in. “You were

voracious when we first got together. Those first few months, I
spent more time tied to the bed than I did on my feet.”

Considering how sublime he’d looked just stretched out on this

one, that didn’t surprise me. “That doesn’t change what happened
today.”

I still don’t think he believed me, but he shrugged and let it go.

It looked like we both had to wield blind trust in the other.

“I’d like to go back to California,” I said, and before he could

interpret that the wrong way, added, “the both of us.”

“Why? You came prepared for an assignment, didn’t you?”
“We’re being watched. I don’t know who, and I don’t know

why, and I don’t like either of those things.”

My suggestion didn’t sit well. “What can you do there that you

can’t here?”

“It’ll be harder for whoever’s behind this to track me if I’m

back in civilization.”

“So?”
I blinked. “They could interfere with me finding out how to fix

this.”

“If they were so concerned with maintaining the status quo,

where you don’t even know who I am, wouldn’t they have
interfered the second I told you the truth?”

That hadn’t even occurred to me. I felt like an idiot for not

thinking of it. Because he was right. If Lemuel could sneak up on
me, anybody could. I already knew more than I had a few hours
ago, more than enough time for a plane to arrive, a car to pull into

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the drive, anything to happen to stop me from pushing for the truth.
Or who knows? Maybe I had more than one stowaway on the flight
here.

Little by little, the world was sliding out of my grasp. I prided

myself on control. Slow and steady always wins the race. But I’d
been in a whirlwind since Lem knocked on my door and all my
papers went flying. Details appeared and took on life without my
prior knowledge. I couldn’t manipulate what I couldn’t control,
and if I couldn’t manipulate them to my own satisfaction, how was
I supposed to function?

My shoulders slumped as I rested my head in my hands. With

my eyes closed, I welcomed the darkness that wrapped around me,
offering me comfort when I needed it the most. When it gained
weight, I imagined that I’d somehow made it manifest, only to
realize a split second later that it was Leandro’s hands, kneading at
my tense biceps.

“My plan of just enjoying what we have isn’t a bad one,”

Leandro coaxed. “Given the choices we’ve made…”

His voice faded. I thought he was done talking. Except his

hands stilled slowly as well, drifting upward to the side of my neck
and onto my nape.

“What happened?” he asked.
I tried to straighten, but he firmly pushed my head back down.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Here.”
Fingertips pressed into a spot about halfway up. When pain

shot down my spine, I winced.

“It looks like a burn,” Leandro continued. Further prods were a

little gentler, though each produced the same sharp stab. “What did
that guy do to you?”

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It took me a moment to put together that guy with Lemuel.

Except he hadn’t gone anywhere near my neck. Our only contact
came at my instigation.

That had been painful, too.
I bolted upward, nearly knocking Leandro over in my haste to

get to the mirror in the bathroom. Pale light washed out my
reflection when I flicked on the switch. I twisted around to get a
better view of what Leandro had seen.

And there it was. A ring of red welts, not quite blisters but

definitely angry and sore. I lifted careful fingers to test their
realness and met the same pain Leandro had created with his touch.
The skin wasn’t broken. It looked like it had been seared like a side
of meat. Farther up my neck, it appeared as normal, disappearing
into my hairline like nothing was wrong. Down, however, it was
tinted pink, hot to the touch as the blood had rushed to the surface.

Leandro materialized in the reflection like a shadow. “Are you

going to tell me now what he did to you?”

I shook my head. “He didn’t. I swear to you.”
“Those weren’t there when we were in bed. Or when you came

out of the shower.”

“I know.”
“And talking to him is the only thing that’s happened since.

You can’t tell me he’s not somehow connected.”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”
I was at a genuine loss. The only conclusion I could reach was

that my tattoos were failing me. My flesh was becoming
susceptible to damage and decay, and I had no idea why.

Stepping forward, Leandro rested a hand in the middle of my

upper back and gently pressed, prompting me to lean over the sink.
I braced my hands against the porcelain edges, every muscle in my

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upper body like steel from how tightly I gripped them. Closing my
eyes didn’t help calm me. The medicine cabinet above my head
opened and closed, and in the next minute, cool cream soothed
over the burns.

Leandro worked without speaking, a fact for which I was

grateful. I couldn’t answer his accusations, no matter how much I
wanted to. I could only give myself over to his ministrations and
allow him to ease the worst of my discomfort.

As his gentle fingers reached the edges of the burns at the side

of my neck, he murmured, “There was something else you did
between showering and going outside.”

I sighed. I really didn’t want to argue about this. “Enlighten

me.”

“You got dressed.”
He was right. The simple step had eluded me, an automatic

thing everyone did and forgot about, a detail I would have grasped
without even trying before taking this assignment. Worse, there
was merit in this realization, and Leandro knew it. Because now
that I thought about it, the burns rested where my collar would
have touched my skin, the same collar that had itched and annoyed
me, but I had stubbornly ignored and blamed on my distemper.

The shirt was divine. Just as Lemuel was divine. And I’d felt

that flash of heat when I’d touched him, as well. Perhaps not the
first time, but definitely the second, when he’d been in the middle
of disappearing on me, when my heightened emotions had refused
to be ignored any longer and I’d acted in desperation.

For whatever reason, my flesh was reacting like it was mortal.
When I lifted my head, I saw in the reflection of Leandro’s

eyes that he’d already figured that out. I’d warned him about the
shirt, after all. And then my body had been the one to offer the

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proof of it.

He reached again over my head and removed some gauze pads

and tape from the cabinet. Maintaining that same tender touch, he
covered the affected skin, protecting it from any more harm. When
he was done, he bent and pressed a kiss to the back of my neck,
above the edge of the bandage.

“I’m going to put some coffee on,” he said. “I think we’re both

going to need it.”

I nodded and let him go. I had yet to release my death grip on

the sink. Part of me was afraid that if I did, I’d fall. It just might be
the only thing holding me together right now.

That, and Leandro.
My thoughts raced back to when I’d touched Lemuel. He’d

asked if I was all right. No declamations about what the hell had
just happened, or questions about what I might have done to him,
since presumably, I was the stronger of the two of us. Just…care.

Why is it always about what I’ve done? Or what he’s done?

That’s what he’d said. The question he’d left out was obvious.

Why isn’t it about what you’ve done?
But I had no answer to that question, either. My existence had

been ordered, almost mundane. I conducted my work to the best of
my ability, doing everything I could to please both mortal bosses
and the Higher Powers. Any terrestrial laws I broke were in
accordance to my duties, and I did everything possible to escape
punishment from the Higher Powers.

Was this a different form of punishment, then? But for what?

And why couldn’t they just come out and tell me? What was the
song and dance for? Most importantly, why bring Leandro back
into it, when it would only cause him further pain when we
separated?

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Because if I couldn’t resolve this, he was dead. Gone. He

claimed to be okay with that, that it was preferable to living
without me, but he couldn’t fathom the magnitude of what that
meant. And I couldn’t bear the thought of being responsible for it. I
might not remember the depth of my feelings from before, but I
could see their return looming on the horizon. It would take very
little to fall head over heels for him, even if I had no recollection of
ever experiencing love before. I knew what it was. I’d seen it in
countless people over the centuries. I’d felt it in Leandro’s
memories when I’d stepped into them.

I splashed cool water over my face, sighing with pleasure at the

base relief it offered. The smell of rich coffee drifted in through the
partially open door, and I gazed out to watch Leandro move in and
out of view, working in the kitchen in some sick parody of
normalcy.

Was it worth it to him? Had time weighed him down so

completely that he was willing to take these last couple days of
intoxication to suffer for eternity? It must be. I couldn’t imagine
him doing anything he didn’t want to. He might have been bound
into silence, but he hadn’t been coerced. A weariness undercoated
his resolve. His continued fight for my attention offered additional
evidence. I almost wished I could do what he wished and forget the
outside world to enjoy what he had to offer.

But I’d done enough forgetting to last me a lifetime.
When I came out, he had coffee already poured. He held mine

out, and our fingers brushed when I took it. A tingle ran up the
back of my hand, and in spite of my frustration, I relaxed a little.

Leandro gave me a wan smile. “It’s better than when you were

sick,” he said. “At least, I can treat cuts and burns.”

More memories that should have been impossible. Ones I’d

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forgotten to pursue answers for until now.

“Can you tell me about it?”
He led the way to the couch, where we sat next to each other,

our thighs touching. “I don’t know what there is to tell. You caught
something, and were in bed for days. You couldn’t keep anything
down, you were burning up, and most of the time, you were either
passed out or so delirious I had no idea what you were talking
about.” He rested one hand on my knee, though it seemed more to
assure himself that I was still there than to comfort me.

“When did it happen?”
“A few months after you freed me. I thought…that was it. I

was sure you were going to die.”

“But I didn’t.”
“No. During one of your lucid moments, you told me about the

tattoos. About what they did. I’d thought they were badges of
honor, like warriors wore in certain tribes. I said something along
the lines of how it was too bad they weren’t big enough to fight off
infection, too, and that was when you asked for my help in
extending them.”

“And it worked?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, a smile tilting his

lips. “You’re here, aren’t you?”

I wanted those memories desperately. They felt like a key to so

much of what was transpiring now. “And we never figured out
what was wrong with me?”

Leandro shook his head. “You didn’t remember most of it. You

really were very sick, Cal.” He paused, a line appearing between
his brows. “I just remembered. Your friend, that courier guy, he
came to see you once when it was bad.”

My senses leapt. “Why didn’t you say something?”

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101

“Because he wasn’t there long. And he didn’t say anything. I

answered the door, told him you were sick. He didn’t believe me,
so I let him see for himself. He took one look at you, sighed, then
walked out. That was it.”

More proof Lemuel knew more of what was going on than he’d

ever said. I wanted to call out for him to show himself, but I wasn’t
sure if he would, or how Leandro would react to the sudden
intrusion. He might not appreciate finding out we’d had a Peeping
Lem for our entire time together.

Absently, I rubbed at the marks around my wrists. In many

ways, they looked like shackles, the ink that had been combined
with my blood more steel gray than the black and blue of the rest
of the tattoos. I’d never given much thought to them at all. They
were a part of me, like the color of my hair or the occasional
freckle that marred my back. But closer examination revealed a
variance, slight and almost undetectable, not just in the color but in
the smoothness of the lines. In several spots along the edge, it
wavered, the most infinitesimal of dips.

“How did you help?” I asked.
“I did more than help. I guided your hand when you couldn’t.”
That’s what I’d thought. The best explanation for a less than

steady line was a less than steady hand.

“What tools did you use?”
“The needles you showed me how to make.”
“And the ink?”
“We mixed your blood with squid ink. Then…you did

something to it.”

I frowned. “What something?”
“I don’t know. Something magic. I couldn’t understand what

you were saying.”

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102

“Could you repeat it?”
Leandro dropped his head to the back of the couch and stared

up at the ceiling. “Do you have any idea how long ago that was?
And I haven’t thought about it in years. Whenever I’ve thought of
you, I focus on the good, not the bad.”

“How is a tattoo a bad memory?”
“It’s not.” His dark eyes found mine. “It was having to do it in

the first place, and not being sure it would even work, that’s
awful.”

I was torturing him by dredging all this up. He hated every

second of it. I could see it in his face—hell, I could practically
smell it coming from his skin. But I had to understand or I couldn’t
fix it. I couldn’t risk repeating history.

“Can’t you ask your courier friend?” Leandro said.
“No. Even if he knew, he’s bound to silence as much as you

are.”

With a sigh, Leandro curled into my side, careful not to disturb

the bandages on my neck. My arm went around him, and when I
kissed the top of his head, he kissed me back, brushing his lips
across the pulse in my throat.

“It would probably take one big tattoo covering your whole

body to protect you this time,” he murmured. “So it’s probably a
good thing we don’t remember, or your students will give you hell
for looking like such a badass after they’ve erased me for real.”

The image he evoked made me snort, but his casual

observation prompted my thoughts to careen into a new direction.
His existence had been scrubbed from my brain by what we’d done
almost half a millennium ago. I should have had no proof or
reminders in my life that he had ever been borne, or that our paths
had ever crossed.

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103

I lifted up my free hand and stared at my wrist again.
Except I did.

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104

CHAPTER 10

“Talk to me.”
Leandro followed me around the cabin, trying to get in my way

every time I opened a new cupboard. He’d tried grabbing me the
moment I rose from the couch, but after I’d shaken him off the first
time, he hadn’t tried again.

“I can help. You just have to tell me what you’re doing.”
His words came from a distance, since my head was currently

under the sink in my attempt to inventory what supplies were
readily available to me. I couldn’t see his face, but I recognized
pleading when I heard it. I’m usually immune. His was a lot more
difficult to ignore.

“Did you remember something?”
Hope had crept into his tone. It was feeble and his growing

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105

frustration more prevalent, but he was grasping at straws here. He
didn’t know what to make of my behavior, though after everything
that had already happened today, I didn’t see why he should be
surprised. We both had a lot to learn about the other. And if my
plan worked, I’d have at least a few more answers.

I just had to survive it.
I got the rubbing alcohol from the medicine cabinet in the

bathroom to add to my growing stack of ingredients. Already on
the table were the array of knives I’d found in the drawers, as well
as a vegetable peeler, clean rags, a large basin, and baking soda.
Salt came next, followed by a razor from my pack. Leandro kept
circling around, though at least he never tried to put anything back.

If he interfered, I would need to stop him. It would hurt, but I’d

do it. This was the only way I could hope to get some kind of
useful truth.

“Caleb, please…” He darted in front of me when I headed for

my pack again. “Why won’t you tell me what you have in mind?
This is my future, too. I thought you cared about what happened to
it.”

Low blow. We both knew it. Trouble was, it hit exactly as he

intended.

“You have to trust me,” I said.
“I do. Why don’t you trust me?”
Ouch. Another one. He was very good at finding my chinks.
“Because I don’t think you’ll like what I’m about to do.”
His eyes widened. “That’s even more reason for me to worry.

The last time you told me to trust you like this, I ended up losing
you for centuries. I won’t let that happen again. I don’t care how
stubborn you are about it.”

Guilt sliced through me, enough for me to hesitate. Leandro

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106

saw it and stepped forward, pressing to my front and wrapping his
strong arms around my waist.

“Tell me,” he whispered. “After everything…I have a right to

know.”

My walls crumbled. “Promise me you won’t stop me.”
Alarm flashed through his eyes, and he shook his head. “I

can’t.”

“Then I can’t tell you. This is the only way I can think of to

help us.” I tried to smile and failed. “You don’t have any more
guitars for me to channel through.”

He bowed his head and nuzzled into my neck, lips hot where

they grazed over my skin. “Is that what it’ll take for you to let me
in? My promise?”

The whispered words were torn from his throat, each one razor

sharp and ragged both in tone and against my flesh. I yielded to the
urge to return the embrace, a shudder rippling through me at how
well we were matched. My earlier prophecy was already coming
true. The body remembered, even when the brain did not. Funny
how I was now counting on that possibility when before it had
frightened me.

“I need information you can’t share and I can’t recall,” I said,

my voice at the same low volume he used. I’ve always found it
ironic that people share secrets as if they were in a crowded room,
even when they are the only two in a hundred-mile radius. It’s as if
they could escape their immediate surroundings, take wing to flit
away before the bearer could catch them. Even I was prey to such
instincts, it would seem. Which, considering I harvested secrets for
my existence, was the most ironic thing of all. “I can’t continue
when everything I’ve ever known and believed is crumbling
around my ears.”

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107

“Why?” He posed the question without looking up. I wouldn’t

be surprised if he was too afraid to expose himself more than he
already had. “Let it fall and rebuild. I’ll help you.”

“We can’t run. We’ll be found.” I held him tighter, needing to

feel his solidity. “I won’t tell you it isn’t tempting. It is. You are.
Everything you’ve told me, what I’ve felt…if it was possible to
forget who I am and what I do, just to be able to get that back, I
would do it. You have to believe that.”

His choppy inhalation trembled through both of us. “I do.”
“But it’s not possible. You know that, too, right?”
He took longer to respond this time. “Yes.”
“Then let me do this. I have to try.”
“Trying implies you think there’s a chance you’ll fail.”
“There is.”
“What happens if you do?”
“Too many things.”
“Will you die?”
“I can’t die, remember?”
“But you could be hurt.” He peeled away, in slow increments,

first his arms falling slack, then his head finally lifting. “You’re
already hurt.”

“Then a little more pain shouldn’t be a problem,” I joked.
Leandro didn’t laugh. “Tell me what it is.”
He didn’t utter the promise, but I suspected at this point, we

each had to make that leap of faith. “Not everything was erased
when I gave you the tattoos,” I said.

His slow frown meant he didn’t make the same connection I

had. “You said you don’t remember anything.”

“I don’t. I’m not talking about what’s in my head.” Slowly, I

lifted my arm, drawing his gaze to the inked cuff around my wrist.

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108

“You did this to me, which means I should have lost it when I lost
you. I have to find out what my body remembers.”

He stared at the tattoo, unblinking but not uncomprehending.

When his eyes slid to the tools I’d gathered on the table, he
swallowed hard, his cheeks ashen.

I waited for the protestations. Time was running out on us, but

seeing the anguish written on his face, I couldn’t turn my back on
alleviating his concerns. Even if it meant I had to lie.

Leandro swallowed again. “What can I do to help?”
Knowing he wouldn’t interfere and make this more difficult

than it already was, was a bigger relief than I expected. My
shoulders sagged, and I nodded in gratitude, hoping he could see
that I understood what a sacrifice he was making. In his eyes, he
probably saw my actions as a sacrifice as well, since it would be
my well-being on the line should I fail. He’d already prepared
himself for the possibility of death when this was over. I needed
him to believe I would go to the same lengths for him, no matter
what.

“Be watchful,” I said. “If I ask for your help, give it.”
“You were in a trance when you charmed the guitar. Won’t you

be in a trance again?”

“I was still aware of who I was. That I could break the

connection at any point. This shouldn’t be any different.”
Shouldn’t being the operative word. I would be forging a bond and
listening to my own body this time. As far as I knew, that would
bind me tighter than placing myself in another’s existence.

When he nodded, albeit slowly, I grabbed my pack and carried

it back to the table. Leandro followed, my shadow as I began to set
the spell. I cut salt and baking soda together in a small bowl, then
used half of it to draw a square on the floor. Next, I inscribed a

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109

circle inside it, careful to connect with but not to cross the white
lines I’d already created. When I knelt at its center, I held the bowl
out for Leandro to take.

“I’m containing the magic,” I explained.
He nodded. “I remember this. Each side represents one of the

elements, right?”

“Yeah.” I squelched the concern that he was in any way

familiar with the ritual. “The salt/soda combination is a last resort.
Once I’ve started, you’re not going to be able to cross the lines, but
you can use the salt mixture to breach the barrier.”

“Okay.”
“Pass over the rest of the stuff.”
The basin ended up on the floor in front of me, the knives at

my sides. Using one of the rags, I sterilized the skin on my left arm
before shaving away all of the hair from the back of my hand all
the way to my elbow. Then, I sterilized it again. I probably could
have done it in the bathroom, but being within the circle focused
my energies. It calmed me, even with Leandro hovering beyond its
border. This was the only way. I was doing the right thing,
regardless of the possible ramifications.

When I was done, I handed everything back to Leandro, to

clear the circle of everything that might get in the way. Our fingers
brushed, and I looked up one last time to meet his resigned gaze.

“Trust that I want this to work,” I said.
“I’ve never stopped trusting you,” he replied. “It’s everything

you can’t control that I have a problem with.”

I was starting to suspect he had every right to be afraid, but I

couldn’t show weakness at this point. Picking up the vegetable
peeler, I poured a liberal amount of alcohol over the narrow blade,
letting it splash into the basin. I set it to the back of my wrist, along

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110

the width of the tattoo, and closed my eyes.

The murmured spell filled my ears. It was heavy on my tongue,

reluctant to bear fruit, but I battled the instinct to withdraw and
pressed onward. A low buzzing settled at the base of my spine. The
magic resonated upward, suffusing my synapses with the power
pulling from my cells. Each atom of each living thing has it. Some
have the capability of channeling it. Others never experience the
freedom it brings. A few select actually benefit from what it can do
for them, a fact I was currently very grateful for. It would make it
easier to bear the pain I knew was coming.

Because all of a sudden, I knew this would work.
I drew the peeler across my skin. I had to use more force than

normal to break it, but I felt the metal against bared flesh, the sting
of air as I shaved the uppermost layer away. It hurt. I won’t deny
that. But even as the blood welled to the surface, I knew it wasn’t
enough.

Repeating the incantation over and over again, I peeled another

layer away. The shavings fell into the basin, echoing the words
back at me. I vaguely wondered if Leandro could hear them, if by
imbuing him with my blood had opened his awareness to more of
the mystical than the average mortal. That was a question for later,
though. I had to get through this first.

Four layers came off this way. Fire, earth, water, air. Each was

necessary to complete the spell, each a vital component to
recreating the memories I was convinced lived within my tattoos.

Air. My voice. The words given shape and form that would call

the images forward.

Water. My blood. Dripping across my wrist to drop bead by

bead into the basin. This aspect, I’d been unsure of. I wasn’t
supposed to bleed. But I knew now that cutting my thumb on the

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111

missive I’d snatched away from Lemuel in my apartment had not
been a freak occurrence. Something had happened to me then. I’d
been exposed to Leandro’s life force, even secondhand as it had
been. The fat droplets now filling the bowl assured me the spell
would work. As well as it could, anyway.

Earth. My flesh. The Higher Powers weren’t created as part of

the terrestrial realm, but since I was sanctioned to move among the
mortals as one of them, I was just as much a part of the earth as
any person walking down the street. The pieces I shaved away
were paper thin and tainted with the aged ink of my tattoos, but
they were still a part of me. They still carried the power of all
things living within their cells. Especially mingled with the magic
and blood.

All that left was fire.
Manipulating matter to produce the friction necessary to

generate fire is simple. If I weren’t concentrating on this particular
spell, I would be able to do it with ease. But all of my internal
focus had to reside on slicing past the shrouds I’d constructed
when I’d erased Leandro so many years ago. The fire I required
would have to be generated in other ways.

Without opening my eyes, I set the peeler aside and reached the

extra inch to pick up the box of matches I’d retrieved from my
pack. It had been the last item I’d gathered, the one I knew already
would be the easiest to get. I took out a single match and ran my
finger along the edge of the box to find the scratch strip. Once it
was oriented properly, I rested the tip of the match against it and
positioned it over the basin in front of me.

I had to hope I didn’t miss. That’s why I’d been so slow and

careful about placing the bowl.

I struck the match a breath away from the end of the

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112

incantation. Blood was dripping down my arm, tickling a path to
my elbow, and the sting made me itch, but my heart leapt at the
sudden hiss and the fresh smell of sulfur burning in my nose. I
opened my fingers and prayed the flame didn’t die before it
touched the contents of the basin.

Both the match and the last word of the spell landed at the

same time. The pop as each combusted frizzled across my skin.

Then, the world went black.

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CHAPTER 11

I might be immortal, but alcohol still has an effect on me.

Hence, my decision not to grade under the influence. I was well
aware of what it felt like to be drunk, that sense of the world
expanding and contracting like it actually breathed, that
hypersensitivity to the most inopportune things. The specifics of
the latter are different for everyone. For me, it manifests in my
skin. I become aware of how taut my skin stretches over my body,
the whisper of each hair follicle, the degrees of heat it climbs as
my inner temperature rises.

That’s how I felt now. Like I was drunk and feverish, all at the

same time.

A groan escaped me. Almost immediately, cool hands brushed

across my forehead.

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“Sleep,” a baritone crooned. “For all that is good and holy, you

must sleep, Caleb.”

“No,” I muttered. I struggled to open my eyes, but they failed

my command. “Have to…get up.”

When I attempted to rise, the hands slipped to my shoulders

and pressed me back down. “I’ll lash you there if you don’t do as
you’re told. You’ve not the strength to be up and about.”

Recognition broke through the haze governing my thoughts.

Leandro. Had the memory spell gone wrong? What had happened?
I licked my lips to wet them for further speech, only to have a glass
tipped to my mouth and warm, slightly sweet water poured over
my tongue. I gulped it down. I hadn’t realized I was so parched.
The water refreshed my palate, and cleared my head, at least
enough for me to battle with my eyelids again.

I won this time. But the room that swam above my head was

not the cabin in Alaska. I was in the Jamaican hut, and sunlight
streamed through the open windows. Leandro sat on the edge of
the bed, the half-empty glass between his hands.

The ritual had worked. These were the memories buried

beneath my skin.

“Leandro…”
A shy, hesitant smile spread across his handsome face at the

sound of his name. “You know me. That’s good.”

“Why wouldn’t I know you?”
“You haven’t always. The fever…”
This was the illness he’d told me about. That’s why I felt like

shit. I wondered for a second why this was so much more intense
than when I’d relived Leandro’s memories, but the logical
explanation for that came right away. His had been filtered—
through his music, through him, through time. These were mine,

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carried within me like a second life, waiting to be unpacked and
relived for far too long. Whatever I underwent, I would experience
in all its Technicolor, surround sound glory. I had no idea if that
was good or bad.

I tensed to attempt sitting up again, only to have Leandro

hastily put aside the water and push me back down.

“Where’s that famous patience of yours when I actually need

it?” he muttered. “You need rest. We don’t know yet if it’s
worked.”

If it’s worked. I’d found a memory after he’d extended my

tattoos. That made sense. The ink in my wrists, mingled with my
blood, had begun its existence as a part of my tapestry in these
brand new moments. I looked down the length of my body, but my
arms were hidden beneath the thin blanket covering me.

“I want to see,” I rasped.
He knew what I referred to without me having to specify.

“They’re still wrapped.”

“Unwrap them.”
“It’s too soon.”
“I don’t care.”
“I do.” He smoothed his palm over my forehead again, testing

my temperature. “You’re too hot. I don’t even know if it worked.”

“It worked.”
“You can’t know that.”
“I can.”
Leandro sighed and sat back. He hadn’t changed that much

over the years. His head was shaved, but the facial hair was gone,
and he had fewer lines at the corners of his warm eyes. But the
look in them was the same, the warm glow of devotion as it swept
over me in careful assessment.

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“If I’m wrong, I promise to do everything you say until I’m

better,” I coaxed. “Please. I need to see.”

He shook his head, but he pulled the blanket back anyway. My

hands and forearms were bound loosely in clean, white rags. I
could have pulled them off if I wasn’t so weak, but now that I
could see them, my skin itched, heavy and swollen where I knew
the tattoos would be. Leandro picked up the nearest limb, and
holding it gently, began to remove the swaddling. He exposed my
original marks first, but then my chest locked. Fresh bruises and
ink brighter than I’d seen in years mottled my wrists.

I grinned. “You did it.”
“We did it.” His fingertips skimmed over the widest part of the

cuff. Goosebumps erupted along my exposed skin. “I only did
what you told me.” Picking the bandage back up, he wound it into
place again. “And now you’re going to rest.”

“Rest with me.”
“I have to—”
“Sleep,” I finished for him. My eyelids drifted shut again. I’d

used up all my energy to confirm the tattoos were there. “Please. I
need you.”

I fell asleep before I knew whether or not he crawled into bed

next to me. My current self hoped desperately that he had.

* * *

More memories flooded through me, like falling into a

dreamscape and experiencing everything in the blink of an eye.
There was the first time I was strong enough to roll over, pin
Leandro to the bed, and slide into his hot ass without feeling my
body quiver and shake in protest. And surprising him with an early

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morning swim when I finally ventured from the hut. Sitting in
silvery moonlight with palm fronds whispering above our heads as
we worked together to mend a hole in one of the walls. Laughing
at his impatience when he threw the book I was using to teach him
how to read into the ocean.

The ritual failed to give me the time to savor each one, but it

did embed them into my psyche, there to retrieve whenever I
wanted. I retained the memories as I tumbled through my own life,
reliving it in fast forward. Some, I was able to slow down a little,
to hear more than the few snippets I caught. Most seemed
inconsequential to the greater problem at hand.

All helped flood me with the reminder of how desperately I had

loved this man. Because these were the threads that had bound us
together. Moments that had created the life we wove. His face
became indelibly etched on my brain. I saw Leandro when I slept,
when he was outside and I was in, when I was away on assignment
and desperate to return to my simple existence. Everywhere I
turned, he was there.

I tried to catch a specific memory, an afternoon of gilded

sunshine and a feast of wild boar, to live out exactly as I had that
first memory of waking. It slipped through my fingers like water
and no amount of cajoling could summon it back. My current self,
drunk on the experiences, tried turning back to chase it when it
disappeared, but the ritual threw up walls, blockading my path, and
I fell into the next event with disappointment drilling through my
veins.

* * *

We rarely traveled into any of the populated areas, and if so,

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not together. Freeing Leandro might hold in the law’s eyes, but to
the men who walked the streets of St. Jago de la Vega, he was still
a slave. They didn’t speak to him when they would speak to me,
and when they even noticed his presence, it was either with disdain
or dismissal. Leandro didn’t complain, but he was a proud man. I
saw how it hurt every time he was treated as less than he was. So
our visits to gather supplies grew fewer and far between the longer
we were together.

They couldn’t be eradicated completely, though. Some supplies

could not be reproduced, and though I could go into the city alone,
it wasn’t fair to isolate Leandro even more than he already was. On
this visit, we parted ways outside the border, agreeing to meet up at
our favorite inn that evening. I would buy the items we needed,
while Leandro could go off to the docks, where class differences
weren’t quite as stark. He had money of his own to spend, though I
knew he wouldn’t use much of it. He was frugal by nature, and
easily satisfied. All he needed was some company to remember he
was a part of the world, not beneath it.

I rushed through my tasks, uncaring of whether or not I was

getting good bargains. By mid-afternoon, I had already purchased
everything I needed to, and was firmly ensconced in our rooms,
watching the streets for Leandro to arrive. I was silly, and I knew
it, but even those few hours away had me missing him. I’d bought
him two new shirts, because I wanted to see how the natural color
would look next to his dark skin. I didn’t expect the first one he
tried on to stay on for long. That was why I’d got him a pair. I
didn’t have to hold back from tearing one off him if the urge took
me over.

The sun fell closer and closer to the horizon. Reflections off the

water in the distance made it difficult to peer into the direction of

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the docks, so I ended up dozing with my feet propped up on the
sill. I dreamt of the tiny home we had made together, and wished it
was possible to stay there forever. I had never known peace like I
did with Leandro. Each day was a gift, hours I could spend in the
company of the man I loved, in the beauty of the world I’d learned
to love again. I never wanted it to end, regardless of what it took to
make that happen.

Shouts from the street stirred me from slumber. I blinked lazily,

then scrubbed my hand over my face before glancing through the
window. The sight of a bloody Leandro being hauled toward the
inn’s front door, hanging between two burly men, woke me up the
rest of the way. I ran from our room, barreling over the prostitute
in the process of leading her latest toward a door down the hall,
and flew down the stairs.

I ran into them at the threshold. My fist slammed into the first

man I encountered, his body bowing away as the impact against his
ribs thrust him off-balance. Shouts erupted behind me. I can’t say
that I paid them any attention. All I saw was red, and Leandro’s
body slumping against the other man. I lashed out, again and again
and again, doing everything I could to get to my lover. Nails
scratched at my back. A meaty hand clamped over the back of my
neck. I ignored all of it until I had Leandro in my arms.

His lashes flickered open as I cradled him against my chest,

and he smiled—that damn beautiful smile—when he saw who held
him. “Always trying to rescue me,” he rasped. “One of these days,
it’s going to be my turn.”

“Don’t talk.” I backed away from the crowd that had formed,

my gaze jumping around to each of the men. I must have looked
crazed. More than a few fell even farther away. My eyes settled on
one of the pair who had brought him to the door. “Who did this?”

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“We pulled him out of a scrap with some sailors,” the man spat.

“That’s all.”

Leandro tried to get his feet firm beneath him, but I held him

too tightly for that to happen. “Some Spaniards who didn’t take too
kindly to me sitting around without a care in the world,” he said.
“These gentlemen were nice enough to see me home.”

Not home. Not this place. Begrudgingly, I nodded my gratitude

toward the two, then caught the innkeeper’s eye. “Whatever they
want,” I said. “I’ll pay.”

I didn’t stick around to join in the fun. I half-carried, half-led

Leandro upstairs, not stopping until the door was shut firmly
behind us.

He lay there patiently as I stripped him out of his torn clothing.

A bruise the shape of a boot was already forming on his ribs, and
more pummeled his abdomen. The blood that had collected on his
split lip had already dried, but I washed it away anyway. Anything
to keep my hands moving and stave off the shaking that threatened
me to the core.

Neither of us spoke until I rose to dump the bloody water and

fetch another basinful.

“Take care of yourself now,” Leandro said. “I’ll be fine.”
“I don’t—”
“Your hands. Your knuckles are still bleeding.”
I looked down. It was the first time since seeing him on the

street I’d noticed something that wasn’t him. He was right. The
skin on every single finger was torn and stained red. There was
even a long scratch disappearing beneath my shirtsleeve. I had no
memory of how I might have got it.

Because I knew Leandro would protest until I’d seen to myself,

I dunked my hands into the dirty water, rubbing away the worst of

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my injuries. My self in the past gave the scrapes no thought. He
was too worried about Leandro for it to register.

But my current self realized the significance of this particular

memory, and why I’d been allowed to experience all of it.

I was hurt when it should’ve been impossible.

* * *

The period clothing only made Lemuel stand out even more

against the backdrop of the wild Jamaican shoreline, but I was
struck silent by more than that. It was the compassion in his face
that left me adrift, staring at him like he was a stranger.

“You have to be wrong,” I said.
“It would be easier for both of us if I was.”
“How can you be sure?”
“The same way I can be sure of everything else I tell you. The

names I give you, the mortals I direct you to.” He took a step
closer, only to stop when my hands curled into fists. “The
earthquake is coming, Caleb. You can’t change that. Nobody can.
It’s been set into motion for too long.”

By the Higher Powers. They were the ones to control such

matters. But why St. Jago de la Vega? Why now? Mankind was
advancing, learning about their world, broadening its borders.
There were evils in the city, to be sure, but there were evils
everywhere, some much more virulent than what Jamaica boasted.

“Then I’ll leave. I’ll find someplace else for us. On the

continent. Or I’ll even take him back to Europe if I must.”

Sadly, Lemuel shook his head. “You can’t. There’ll be work

for you in the chaos.”

“I’ll send him ahead. I’ll meet him later. If he stays here, if it’s

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as big as you say it’ll be…he’ll be killed.”

“I know.” His eyes ducked, and the fear taking root in my soul

pierced even deeper. Lem backed down from nobody. He showed
no shame. Until now. “He’s to die in the quake. He was always
meant to die in the quake.”

Always? “You knew before now?”
He nodded.
My fury boiled over, and I leapt forward. My hands wrapped

around empty air, and I whirled to find Lemuel standing in the spot
I’d just vacated. I lunged again to the same effect.

“Fighting me isn’t going to change the outcome,” Lemuel said.

“This wasn’t my decision.”

“No,” I sneered. “You’re just their lapdog, ready to do their

bidding, no matter what.”

“And you haven’t done the same for the last thousand years?”
“I have free will. I live my life the way I see fit.”
“Until you get an assignment. And then you’re just the same as

I am, Caleb. You’re bound by the same rules. You can pretend all
you want, but you will never be one of them.”

I wanted to rage that he was wrong. Didn’t I have the same

emotions as those who walked the terrestrial plane? Didn’t I have
the same physical needs? I ate, and slept, and loved, just like
Leandro. I rose with the sun, and crawled into bed at its setting,
with Leandro curled into my body. He needed me. The world
wasn’t ready for a man like him, not here, not where he would be
judged by the color of his skin instead of by the strength of his
heart. I had not set him free from his servitude to watch his life get
extinguished like the flame on a single candle. He was worth more
than that. Surely, the Higher Powers could see that?

“I know it doesn’t look like it, but I’m on your side here,”

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Lemuel said. “You weren’t even supposed to know. You’ve never
learned of natural disasters ahead of time before, have you? No,
because that’s not the way we do things. Telling you was my
choice. Because I think of you as a friend, whether you believe me
or not.”

Now that he mentioned it, I realized he was right. I’d survived

other catastrophes. Volcanoes exploding. The plague. Never once
had I been alerted before they happened.

“Why?” I asked. “If I can’t change it, why tell me?”
He frowned. “So you can say goodbye, of course.” His tone

said he thought it was obvious. “I know what he means to you. We
all do.”

They couldn’t, not really. Otherwise, they would never ask me

to make this sacrifice.

I turned away from Lemuel, unable to look at him anymore.

Staring out over the water usually calmed me, but now, its
expansiveness seemed to echo the hollowing I could already feel
starting inside me. My pleasant morning was a lifetime away. The
number of days I had left with Leandro were already counting
down.

When I felt Lem’s thin hand on my shoulder, I flinched, but he

didn’t pull away. “This way, you have time,” he murmured. “Take
advantage of it. You have a gift here. You just have to figure out
how to use it best.”

Folding my arms over my chest, I refused to move or speak to

him. Even after he faded away, I stood there on the beach,
unmoving until I felt Leandro’s arms steal around my waist.

“How long have you been out here?”
The tickle of his breath would have relaxed me any other time.

Now, it reminded me of everything I was about to lose. “Since

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Lem left.”

“When was that?”
“I don’t know. This morning?”
I knew he wondered why I’d stayed away so long. Hadn’t I

experienced this exact scene when I’d commandeered his
memories? It hurt a hell of a lot worse from this side, though.

“Do you have a new assignment?”
“In a manner of speaking.” I needed to touch him, if only to

prove to myself he was still here. I stroked the back of his hand,
back and forth, remembering how it hadn’t been that long ago
when those same fingers had been bloodied. Just like mine had.
“There’s a lot of change on the horizon.”

“For you?”
I had to choke back the automatic yes. “For everyone.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means…” I sighed. What other choice did I really have?

“We do what we must.”

“How long will you be gone this time?”
“I won’t be.”
“Wait.” Leandro released his hold to slide around and stare up

at me. “You always have to leave for assignments. There’s nobody
here but us.”

“It’s not that kind of task this time.”
“You have other duties?”
I couldn’t meet the confusion in his eyes. Of course, I didn’t.

He knew that. And if I didn’t watch it, I’d end up telling him
everything. The only way to hold my tongue was to look past him,
over his head, at the empty line of the horizon.

“I do what I’m told.” I know I sounded bitter. I wasn’t nearly

strong enough to hold it back. “Sometimes, they are not necessarily

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pleasant tasks.”

“Do you have to start now?”
“Why?”
Catching my wrist, he began to back up toward the rolling surf.

“Because I came out here for a swim, and I think it might do you
some good, too.”

I let him draw me forward, unable to maintain my sour mood in

the light of his obvious playfulness. We swam together whenever
possible. I’d even insisted on coming out after I’d been so ill…

Lemuel had said I could never be one of them, but ever since

I’d fallen in love with Leandro, my life had changed. I got sick, I
got hurt, the blood I shed was the same rich red. I knew of no other
immortal who claimed such weakness, but I would shout it to the
heavens until my voice disappeared, and then I would write it in
the sand, over and over again, heedless of how many times the
water washed it away.

How did the Higher Powers know I wouldn’t be hurt in the

earthquake? They had to have seen what had happened to me in the
time Leandro and I had been together. If I could dislocate my
thumb in a fistfight, I could certainly get crushed under falling
debris, or fall into a chasm in the earth.

“If I had my way, I’d never start,” I confessed. “I’d forge walls

around our home here and blockade the whole world out for
eternity.”

“I like the sound of that. Just you and me. Forever.”
“Forever…” Except Leandro was going to die. Only someone

immortal would survive.

And I knew. Even as my memory self made the connection on

how to allow Leandro to live, I finally understood what it was that
would drive me to mark him with my blood in the first place. It

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was the only way to ensure he didn’t die in the earthquake. The
loss of him in my life would ruin me…but not if I didn’t remember
him. This way, we could go both on.

Until our paths crossed again.

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CHAPTER 12

Waking the next time wasn’t nearly as pleasant. My arms felt

like they were on fire, my wrists especially. The cold floor pressed
against my cheek, and something draped over my lower half,
weighing me down. Words drifted to my ear as if from far away. I
couldn’t make them out, so instead, I focused on my breathing for
several minutes. The fact that I could was a good sign.

“Caleb…”
Leandro’s voice. He’s the one I heard talking. I had to focus to

try and discern more than the cadences of my name, but my head
pounded painfully, like someone was trying to split it open with a
crowbar. My arm rose, though not of my own accord, and
something scraped across the back of my hand. Fresh pain sliced
through me, and I cried out, unable to maintain any sort of

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stoicism.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Leandro repeated over and over

again.

More weight appeared on my forearms, but after the initial

sting, the pain ebbed to a more manageable level. I redirected my
energies to opening my eyes. They felt like they’d been glued shut,
and prying them apart left me panting.

The room immediately spun around me. I caught a glimpse of

Leandro kneeling next to me on the floor with something red and
white in his hand before I had to squeeze my eyes shut again.

“What…” My voice came out as a croak. I don’t even know if

he could understand that had been a word or just some random
groan. I cleared my throat and tried again. “What happened?”

“Don’t talk.” The sound of water splashing preceded another

swipe across my hand. “You’re still bleeding. You need to
conserve your strength.”

His explanation helped me form a picture of what was going

on. Either he’d broken the circle, or I’d come out of it myself,
having learned what I thought was necessary from the memories
within my skin. I lay on the floor, and he was simply doing what
he had always done—taking care of me, like nobody ever had
before. The pain came from my wrist and where I’d shaved myself
away to conduct the ritual. The rest of it was just the residual effect
of the heavy-duty magic I’d performed to get to the memories in
the first place.

Not that I’d ever felt anything like this before in my life. The

closest had come when I’d been ill in Jamaica, though even now,
those memories were fogged by a fevered mind.

“You’re burning up.” He sounded worried. But of course, he

was. “Is this supposed to happen?”

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“Don’t know.” I swallowed hard. “Maybe.”
“Hell, no, it’s not supposed to happen.”
That wasn’t Leandro’s voice. I cracked my eyes open again to

see Lem’s vague outline wavering in the background.

“What’re you doing in here?” Leandro barked. “Get out.”
“You need me.”
“We’re doing just fine without your interference.”
“Right. That’s why Caleb is doing his best drunk zombie

impression.”

“He’s coming around.”
“You just said he’s burning up. Which, newsflash, lover boy,

isn’t normal.”

Their squabbling was making my headache worse. “Can you

two not do this right now?” I squinted, but it didn’t do much to
sharpen Lemuel’s image. He didn’t even seem like himself, more
like the skinny slacker I knew most mortals perceived him to be.
“What’re you doing here, Lem?”

“Do you two have a script you read from or something?”

Lemuel complained. He edged closer, though Leandro tensed with
his approach. “Or maybe it’s just the peas in a pod theory at work
again.”

“Take one more step closer to him, and I will cut your balls

off.”

A glint caught my eye. Leandro brandished one of the knives

I’d got out for the rite.

Lemuel held his hands up over his head in surrender, though I

knew it was just for show. Lem could get out of the way before
Leandro ever moved. “We’re on the same side here. Tell him,
Caleb.”

I had to take a deep breath to find the strength to speak again.

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Each word that came out of me felt like it took more energy with
it. My eyes flickered shut again as I tried to regroup. “He’s telling
the truth.”

“He’s always here when something happens.” Leandro’s voice

still had that accusatory tone. Though I couldn’t see him, I know
he hadn’t lowered the knife. “And it’s always bad.”

“Yeah, sometimes being the messenger boy isn’t necessarily

the best gig,” Lemuel conceded. “But honest, I’ve got no beef with
you two. I’m the only one outside you guys who wants a happy
ending to this story.”

“What can you even do? Caleb said you were as bound as I

am.”

“Bound from talking. Bound from doing? Not so much.”
“Can you help bring his fever down, or stop the bleeding?”
Lemuel snorted. “You two really are made for each other. Big

picture here. Fixing the symptoms is not going to cure the disease.”

“He’s sick?”
The curse under Lem’s breath was in a language I hadn’t heard

in centuries. Power pulsed through the room, and a new warmth
appeared on my other side.

“It’s a good thing he’s pretty,” Lemuel said, his voice now

behind me. Those were his hands that now prodded at my head,
testing its heat, peeling back a single eyelid to blind me with the
shift in light. “I just hope he’s worth it.”

“He is.” When he let go of my eye, I blinked to try and adjust

my vision so I could keep them open this time. “You know what’s
going on?”

He sat back on his heels. “It’s the same thing that’s been going

on since Jamaica. Only this time, you went a little heavy with the
magic.”

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131

Leandro rested a hand on my abdomen, light but possessive.

“What’s been going on since Jamaica?”

“My frailties.” I kept my gaze fixed on Lem. Concentrating on

him helped focus my thoughts, putting everything I had learned
into proper perspective.

“You’re not frail,” Leandro protested. “You’re just—”
“Becoming more mortal.” I saw the corner of Lemuel’s mouth

twitch in approval at my conclusion. “That’s it, isn’t it? It all
started when I met Leandro.”

“When you fell in love with him,” Lemuel corrected.
“But…you had others before me. You told me you did.”
“But none I loved as much as you.” Though it made my arm

scream in agony, I reached for Leandro’s hand and curled our
fingers loosely together. “Or have loved since.”

“You’ve never done anything by half,” Lemuel said. “This is

no exception.”

Leandro tightened his hold around me, oblivious to the way it

hurt. He probably assumed that since I had made the gesture, I was
starting to feel better, even if it wasn’t true. “But he didn’t get
better the last time he got so sick until I extended his tattoos. Is that
what we have to do this time?”

I was glad Leandro wasn’t fighting Lem’s presence any longer.

This would be so much easier if I didn’t have to referee between
them. “I think if that was true, Lem would’ve just stayed out of the
way. You would’ve figured that out on your own eventually.”

“Then, what?”
The muscles in Lemuel’s jaw tightened. Turning his head, he

hissed in and out in a struggle for control over his own vocal cords.
I knew it was a losing battle long before he grimaced in frustration,
so when he ultimately spoke, even when it was through gritted

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teeth, I was more than a little surprised.

“Fool them once, shame on them. Fool them twice…”
His specific verbiage did not escape my notice.
Them.
“The Higher Powers,” I murmured. My hope slowly dissipated,

and I closed my eyes, sinking against the floor.

“You’re their creation,” Lemuel said. He was free to make such

a statement because it had absolutely nothing to do with why he’d
been bound from disclosing the true nature of this assignment. He
knew I’d understand what he meant by it.

Leandro understood, too.
“So they’re jealous of me, is that?” He let me go, and the

floorboards creaked. They vibrated beneath my cheek as he stalked
back and forth around the room. “They don’t want to share?”

“Why should they?” Lem countered. “You’re just a mortal.

One of billions crawling around on this plane. You’re nothing to
them.”

“Which means I’m not a threat!”
“Oh, but you are. Caleb’s work was never the same when you

two were together. He went around the rules whenever he could to
get back to you faster. Or he broke them completely by involving
you in the first place.”

“I never went with him.”
“That’s not what Lem is talking about.” I opened my eyes and

sought him out, finding him as a blurry shadow near the
kitchenette. “It started with the tattoos. And only got worse when I
gave you one to keep you alive.”

The Higher Powers must have been furious at my workaround

to their decision. I remember the 1555 earthquake in St. Jago de la
Vega as a nightmarish time for me, always moving around, taking

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assignments left and right. Pirates began attacking far more
frequently, keeping Spain’s hands full to try and control the island.
Death and dismemberment were common occurrences, and the
constant exposure took their toll. Within a decade, I was pleading
with the Higher Powers to let me move on. It took another five
years before they finally consented. I’d accepted the decision,
rationalizing they knew more than I did, that my presence was
necessary in ways I didn’t—and couldn’t—understand. But
knowing about Leandro, and about what I did to circumvent his
death decree, cast their choices in an entirely different, and
unflattering, light.

They were the ones who had bound Lemuel from telling me

now. And it wouldn’t surprise me if one of them had approached
Leandro about the possibility of erasing his existence. He was a
loose end, and I knew better than anyone how much they hated
those. He said it himself, too. He was tired of living without me.
Mankind was not meant to walk this mortal plane for so long,
especially alone. They required contact with others, intimacy and
stimulation. Otherwise, they stagnated, shriveling into shells of
themselves. They stopped creating anything new or beautiful, and
instead, stumbled along well-worn grooves in the road because it
was easier than finding a new one that might prove more
challenging.

Much like my life had become over the past hundred years or

so.

Perhaps I realized all this because the fever warped my brain

processes into new patterns. I’d certainly never consciously
considered my life dry or boring before. Settled. That was the word
I would have used. When Lemuel had accused of me of being an
old man, I’d fought his description, but now, it seemed strangely

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apropos.

I was old. I’d lived for centuries upon centuries, doing mostly

the same thing, using the excuse of moving around the mortal
plane in job after job as justification that I was still living in the
moment, that I wasn’t exactly what I professed not to be. When I
left this world, nobody would remember me. Nobody would care
that I’d ever existed.

Leandro’s gaze bored into mine.
No, that was wrong.
Leandro would remember. He would care.
That was why he’d wanted to find me.
His tongue swiped across his lower lip, and the muscles in his

throat worked as he swallowed. “What if I leave?” he whispered.
“Will that make them stop whatever it is they’re doing to you?”

His head had been working as swiftly as mine had, though he

had gone in a different direction. “It’s not them. This is my fault.”

He glanced at my bound wrist, and the salt mixture that still

littered the floor. “I knew I should have stopped you from doing
that stupid spell.”

“It’s not because I did the spell, either.” I paused. I knew he

was going to take this the wrong way, but it was still the truth,
simple and pure. “It’s because I love you.”

For a moment, his eyes lit up. Joy like I hadn’t seen outside of

the recovered memories burned away the sadness that had haunted
him since my arrival. The same emotion surged through me at the
sight of his, but when he checked his automatic step forward, it
ebbed again. Because now he was going to do exactly what I didn’t
want, and the joy I wanted to give him would be gone.

“So I did do this to you,” he said, backing away. “Because I

couldn’t keep my big mouth shut and just be grateful for the gift

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you gave me.”

“No.” I didn’t have the energy to get up, but I forced it anyway,

swaying dangerously until Lemuel slipped a supportive arm around
my back. I muttered a quick thank you, but my attention was
drilled on Leandro, and the way he kept looking anywhere but at
me. “No,” I repeated, once I was on my feet. The bandages weren’t
tight enough to stay on with gravity working against them, and
slowly began unfurl. “We were both dying without each other,
even if we didn’t know it. Finding a way to bring us back together
was the best thing you ever did.”

“Except now you’re going to die, too.” His eyes glistened. “I

didn’t want that.”

“As romantic as all of this is…” Lemuel guided me to the end

of the couch and eased me down. “…you two are wasting what
little time I have left.”

I turned to look at him too quickly, and had to grab onto the

sofa arm to keep from pitching forward onto my face. “Your
time?” I asked. “You mean, our time.”

“No, I mean my time. You know as well as I do that we can’t

interfere in mortal affairs unless we’re specifically sanctioned.”

Now he made sense. “They won’t let you keep interfering.”
“Which means, chop chop. Let’s get a move on.”
“And go where?” Leandro demanded. He came around the

couch to my side and knelt on the floor, wrapping the bandage
back around my wrist. Even in the midst of all this, my well-being
was his top priority. “The way you guys keep talking, there’s
nowhere safe.”

“There’s not. So we’ve got one shot to get this done right.”
“You’re still talking in riddles, Lem.”
“Fine. You want plain speak? You’re your next assignment.”

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I stared at him, trying to comprehend what he was saying. Each

passing minute turned another part of my brain to mush. Erase me?
It couldn’t be done. I was immortal. The bearer of details.

But that wasn’t entirely true anymore, now was it? An

immortal wouldn’t be this sick. My soul, my very essence, had
turned its back on the power granted by the Higher Powers, to
embrace the human emotions that consumed me. It wanted to be
mortal, to live with my mortal lover, to die with him. And if
someone was mortal, it was possible to erase them from the
terrestrial plane.

Except…
“I can’t erase myself. It’s a catch-22. And you can’t involve

one of the others, or you’ll be punished for sure.”

“I don’t need to.” He nodded to Leandro. “I’ve got him.” The

confusion must have been written on both of our faces, because
Lem sighed melodramatically. “Just like he’s making you mortal,
you’ve made him immortal. You think he could’ve done those
marks if he didn’t have some of your power? And obviously,
you’re not going to erase yourself completely. You just have to get
rid of the part the Higher Powers cares about.”

It was an insane plan, doomed to failure. If anyone other than

Lemuel had suggested it, I would have laughed in their face or
accused them of setting me up. But no matter what else I thought
of Lem, he liked me. He’d come forward when he didn’t have to.
And I had to trust that he wouldn’t put so much on the line if he
didn’t think it might not be worth it.

Plus, if he was right, I had the added bonus of walking away

with Leandro, free and clear. For that alone, I had to try.

“All right,” I said, and caught Leandro’s hand. “We’re in.”

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CHAPTER 13

The fever made it next to impossible to keep up with them. It

burned behind my eyeballs and left me alternately light-headed and
weighed with stone. I spent more time with my eyes closed than I
did actually helping them prepare. Every time I looked to see what
they were doing, they appeared in a different corner of the room, or
wearing different clothing, like I was making jumpcuts through
time with each mini-doze I lapsed into.

I tried to stand up once to help. Bad idea. I made it halfway

before my stomach lurched, and I vomited all over the blanket one
of them had covered me up with, not stopping even when it settled
into dry heaves. Lemuel eased me back onto the couch, while
Leandro whisked the soiled cover away, returning with a new one
and the order to stay still.

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I had no intention of obeying. Except I fell asleep again, and

the next time I opened my eyes, the room was nearly pitch black,
the only light coming from a few pillar candles on the coffee table.

Why my body chose to betray me now, I didn’t know. I

suspected it had something to do with discovering the truth. The
last of the barriers that had been protecting me all these years had
been stripped away, leaving my flesh vulnerable to the travesties
waiting to ravage it. Whatever it was, it rendered me helpless, my
brain like soup, the rest of me nearly a corpse already. My only
succor came when Leandro would bend over me and press a hand
to my forehead, or my cheek, or my chest. I sighed at the touch of
his cooler skin, then whimpered when he took it away from me.

This needed to end. Now. Or five minutes ago. I wasn’t picky.
When I croaked for a glass of water, Lemuel was the one to

fetch it for me. He slid an arm beneath my broad frame and sat me
up like I was a child, keeping me steady while I sipped at the
refreshing fluid. My lips felt like they’d been baked in the Sahara.
Thick and slow to respond to my command, they dribbled more
than a little bit before Lem set the glass aside.

“I’m sorry it came to this,” he surprised me by saying. “If I

hadn’t been bound—”

I waved him off from finishing the thought. “We both did what

we felt was right. Considering our pasts, I don’t think either one of
us can ask for anything more.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, though the smile was sadder

than I’d ever seen on him before. “You’ve always treated me
fairly, Caleb. Better than any of the others. It’s been an honor to
call you my friend.”

My eyes pricked with unexpected tears. He was surprising me

left and right tonight. “Whatever I can do for you, just ask.”

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“Just get through this in one piece.” Gently, he laid me back

down, but before rising, he bent and pressed a kiss to my brow. He
murmured something I couldn’t make out, and then he was gone,
turning his back on me to talk to Leandro again.

The next few minutes were a haze. Their voices were a

constant hum in the background, broken by the occasional crackle
in the fireplace or a floorboard creaking when they moved around.
The cat jumped on my legs at one point, probably since I was the
only unmoving thing left in the room, did three revolutions in
search of the softest spot, then proceeded to curl into a ball on my
calves and fall asleep.

I smiled. I missed Kuro. Did he miss me? Would I even get to

see him again after this was all said and done?

“All right. I think that’s it.” Leandro’s voice carried through the

darkness before his shape separated from the background to loom
above me. He’d changed his clothes. Well, his shirt anyway. He’d
exchanged his for my bloodletting shirt, and though it hung loose
on his slightly smaller frame, he showed no signs of discomfort.

“Told you he had enough of you in him to pull this off.” Lem

appeared behind the couch, leaning over to rest his forearms
against the cushions. “I am so glad I’m not in your shoes.”

I laughed, or tried to. It came out as more of a hoarse rasp.

“You’ve always been jealous of me, Lem.”

“Not this time. A mortal wearing the divine? The Higher

Powers would turn over in their graves if they saw him like this. If
they could die, that is.”

“Does it hurt?” I posed the question to Leandro. He didn’t look

like he was in pain, but I trusted neither my state of mind nor his
appearance to tell me the truth.

“It’s warm,” he admitted. “Not quite uncomfortable, but I

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wouldn’t want to wear it for more than a couple hours.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Lemuel said. “If this doesn’t work,

you’ll both be dead anyway.”

I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“You wouldn’t recognize me if I didn’t call it like I see it.” He

jerked his chin toward the coffee table, redirecting my gaze from
Leandro to its surface. “Let’s get the show on.”

At some point, they’d laid it out like an altar. I recognized the

square pattern of the candles’ arrangement, with the knives in
similar configurations along the edge. My ceremonial knives. The
ones I’d brought with me for my assignment. For the first time
since agreeing to this insane plan, I felt the first niggle of fear.

Leandro crouched at my side. His eyes were fathomless,

swimming to a blur as I tried to focus on them. “I hate that I have
to hurt you to do this,” he whispered. “If there was any other
way…”

“This makes us even.” My fingers fumbled for his. I managed

only to graze against the shirt before its heat seared into my skin
and made me jerk back with a hiss. “I trust you, Leandro.”

“Erasing now, emoting later,” Lem complained.
Leandro sighed and sat back on his heels, glaring at Lemuel. “I

am not going to miss you.”

Puckering up his lips, Lemuel blew him a kiss.
I closed my eyes. For several reasons. One, I ached keeping

them open. Two, the room stopped spinning when I couldn’t
actually see it. And three, I knew this would be easier for Leandro
if he made the mistake of looking in my eyes while he worked.
He’d falter, and we’d fail.

I couldn’t do much in my weakened state, but I could at least

impart what little wisdom I’d gained.

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“Don’t hesitate,” I whispered. “Once you start, don’t stop.

Don’t think about what you’re doing, don’t dwell on what might or
might not happen. Just do it.”

“I will.”
His solemn promise hung in the air between us. When the chant

started, the slither of magic along my skin set all my hair standing
on end. It beckoned to me to respond, to join in on the games. This
is your time, it murmured. This is your skill. Would you really let
this neophyte try and control me?

The answer formed on my lips, as the first blade touched to the

center of my sternum.

Always.

* * *

The world ran red.
It wasn’t because of the setting sun, though it edged the sky

around the bay in pink that gradually shifted to violet the farther
away from the horizon it stretched. I knew that wasn’t real, at least
not the way I was seeing it. It might have felt like I was sitting on
the balcony outside my bedroom in Palo Alto, watching the day
end with a warming glass of wine, but that was a lie. This was just
the starting point, the springboard to my existence.

Blood already pooled around my feet. My blood. Dripping

from the long cuts serrating my legs, my torso, my face.

“I’m sorry.”
I turned my head to see Leandro sitting in the other wrought

iron chair at my side, but he, too, was an illusion. My Leandro was
back in the cabin, wrapped up in the rituals that would slowly erase
me away. This one, although just as pretty and tempting, had been

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created by the magic itself, here to guide me through the path of
my life as it crumbled away behind us.

“Don’t apologize.”
“But I am.”
“I know. Still. Don’t apologize.”
“Does it hurt?”
I looked down at my chest. The cuts weren’t deep, hardly fatal,

but they bled easily, cleanly, steadily. Most of them were mirrors
of what he had already cut into me on the couch in Alaska. “Not
yet.”

“It will.”
“I know.”
“Are you going to scream?”
“Who knows?” I smiled. I shouldn’t be this relaxed, but this

entire situation felt so inevitable, I just couldn’t fight it. “I’ll try not
to. For your sake.”

He turned away, staring up into the sky. “So many people here.

And you never found anyone.”

“I found you.”
“I meant here. Or anywhere. After me.”
“There’s a reason for that. I always loved you. Even when I

didn’t remember you.”

His soft sigh joined with the wind and melted into a new

melody. I let it wash over me, my eyes drifting shut. His next, “I’m
sorry,” was a gentle caress.

That made the drive of the knife into my chest all that much

sharper.

* * *

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143

An elderly man, already forgotten by his family, bent over his

morning tea. The blood from his fingertips filled his saucer,
seeping across the Formica table’s surface as I continued to
extract the details of his life.

A waitress, still in her apron, crying silently from the corner of

the room. Her hair matted against her skull, and her shallow
rocking left bloody imprints on the wall it would take me hours to
clean away.

An engineer in Detroit. A blues singer in Tennessee. A second-

rate chef in New Jersey. Each one a blot removed from history.
Each one had bled for me, though not all of them had been willing.

Each one faded away, lost to the annals that would record

mortal history, taking a small part of me with them, never to
return.

* * *

I didn’t remember the pain beginning. I wondered if that was

an effect of the ritual. But I became aware of the red-hot agony
sometime around the recreation of the mid-nineteenth century,
when my nomadic existence was more literal than metaphoric.
Most of my time had been traveling through the Midwest, finding
towns to use to bend space and cut some journeys short whenever
the need arose. I didn’t have an address, and in most places, never
offered a last name. I was just Caleb, itinerant worker for hire,
shoulder to cry on, body without identity.

I rarely thought of that time of my life, though truth be told, I

rarely thought about much of my past once it was done. That
particular period, however, held little allure for revisiting. Little set
it apart. I was as much a part of the scenery I passed through as I

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144

could manage to get.

So it surprised me to be forced to relive so many moments

before they were sliced away from my flesh. I hadn’t realized they
numbered so high. I think that’s why I grew attuned to the pain at
that point. The astonishment at what I saw forced me more into the
moment.

Faces I had forgotten loomed in memories sharpened by the

knife’s edge Leandro used in the real world. Like the Kiowa boy
who’d befriended me when he wandered away from his tribe’s
camp. I remembered his name—Dohasan—just as it caught on the
gale we’d weathered one night and drifted away for good.

Then there was the family I’d lived with one summer, the

Montheis who only spoke German until I came along. I’d helped in
the fields during the day and slept in the lean-to at night, listening
to the silence of a unit falling apart. They had too many mouths to
feed and not enough strong backs. When I left, I took with me the
memories of the two youngest daughters and the mother’s ability
to conceive. I’d been punished for the latter. It wasn’t my decision
to choose not to fulfill part of my assignment, since she had been
destined to be erased as well. The Higher Powers set me alight
with divine fire that felt astonishingly similar to what I experienced
now.

At least until those details flowed away from me, too.
Each new sliver of heat worming its way into my gut revealed a

face before it took its place. I rifled through hundreds, thousands,
tens of thousands, only gradually realizing few I encountered
generated a response stronger than the pain shredding my flesh to
ribbons. No emotional connections. No fond recollections. My
memories were my work, the composite of everything I had ever
done for the Higher Powers.

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145

“Oh, Caleb…”
His voice filled my being, taking up residence in all the corners

the ritual had hollowed out. It alleviated the worst of the pain.
From anyone else, I might have worried about the palliative, but
I’d meant what I said to Leandro. I trusted him with everything I
had, everything that I was. I gathered together my remaining will
and used it to shield against new onslaughts. Even when the older
memories were ripped away, the ones that had had time to dig their
way deep into my psyche, I bore the attack with stoicism.

I did it for Leandro.
I did it for us.
So caught up in trying to protect Leandro from the worst of my

reactions, I failed to recognize a new element in the images
replaying through my head until the time of my creation drew nigh.
My body felt like it had been ground up and then loosely packed
back together like a package of minced meat at the grocery store.
Though I was still trapped within the realm of the mystical, I
wavered on the border of the physical world as well, aware of the
blood soaking into the couch upon which I rested. It squished
around my shoulders whenever I flinched, and the distant drip,
drip, drip of beads falling to the floor acted as a metronome for my
breathing.

But beneath it—and through it, too—something new was

added. It wasn’t the scarlet magic of the erasing ritual, or the balm
of Leandro’s voice. This pulsed with a different energy, more
frenetic, more ethereal. It felt familiar, but I wasn’t in control
enough to put my finger on why. I only knew it was other, not
mine, not Leandro’s, not a part of the spell to sever my immortality
from the terrestrial plane.

The place of my creation sped closer and closer. I was the dart,

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and it was the target, the bull’s-eye at which I’d been aimed. Hit it,
and I would be done. Gone. My deeds would be meted out to those
who remained so the world order could be maintained. I had no
family to fix, nobody to miss me when I was gone. I had spent
centuries walking through the terrestrial plane, and the only ones
who would care about my absence had long ago been erased.

Not all.
That energy I couldn’t identify whipped around my

unconscious like a thousand fireflies set free at once. The
correction to my assumptions had come from it, not from my
rational senses. I tried to reach out for it, but it was like trying to
catch wind between my fingers.

No time, no time.
No time for what?
Hold on, old man. We’re almost there.
I didn’t know where there was. Is this what others experienced

as they neared the end? A sudden panic that I was abandoning
Leandro and everything we could have had flashed through me,
and the pain I’d managed to subdue to this point flared anew.

Someone hissed.
“Don’t fight it,” Leandro whispered.
His voice sounded like it was right at my ear, on the terrestrial

plane not in these depths of my past. I imagined he cradled me
close, heedless of the blood and the fire gluing our bodies together.
The collar of his shirt burned against my cheek, but it was worth it
to turn into him and inhale his rich, clean scent.

“Love you…”
The other energy slowed for a moment, and I could have sworn

I heard laughter. Lem’s laughter.

Him. He was the third in all this. Of course. How could I have

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forgotten?

I was too weak by this point to do anything more than continue

on the path the ritual thrust me. I knew where it would end. Not
with a whimper, but with a bang, my creation when the Higher
Powers had deemed me necessary for their plans for the mortal
coil. They had formed me from the clay of human existence,
instilling in me the power and knowledge necessary to do their
bidding. My very first act as an immortal had been to forge the ink
from my blood that would protect me from ever falling prey to
what destroyed each and every single being that walked this plane.

Then I had met Leandro. And all of that had changed. And

even knowing what I did now, I would do it all over again.

Lemuel grew more frenzied, and Leandro’s embrace tightened.

I was falling, I knew it, and I wanted to stop, to catch myself, to
stay, but everything was too red and slick and swift. I hurtled
downward, away and away and away, and the blackness
encroached upon the crimson tide until even the blood was gone.

This was it. This was my end. We’d failed. I tried to apologize

to Leandro, but I couldn’t form the words on my lips. I couldn’t
even breathe. Everything had compressed to the void from which
I’d come, and I had no more choices but to pass into it.

Lemuel’s energy stopped. It just stopped. I thought it was gone,

that I was gone, but I could still feel it hovering somewhere around
me, somewhere out there.

Goodbye, my friend.
As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t return the sentiment. The

darkness was complete. No sounds, no smells, no sights, nothing
disturbed the blankness. I couldn’t even feel Leandro anymore, and
that was the most terrifying part of all.

A whisper pressed to my forehead. Amidst my fear, warmth

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148

began to replace the coldness, starting at the epicenter of the touch.
It radiated outward, driving back the emptiness, leaving behind a
brilliance that hurt to gaze upon. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut,
but they still refused to obey my commands. The light got brighter
and brighter, hotter and hotter, until it enveloped me so tightly I
thought I would combust from it.

“I love you, Caleb…”
My throat closed. I felt it. And it wasn’t due to the lack of air,

or the force of magic. It was the all-encompassing swell of emotion
that his words triggered. I tried to say it back to him, but
everything surrounding me had taken up motion again, propelling
me along with it.

I went up, up, and even higher. I wasn’t afraid of where it was

taking me. My terror had stayed behind, smothered by the
darkness.

Because Leandro was there. I could feel his arms around me—

really around me—and I could smell the sweet, musky hint of his
skin, and if it wasn’t so damn bright, I would bet I could see him,
too.

Wherever I was going, wherever this was taking me, I wouldn’t

be alone.

And that was all that mattered.

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CHAPTER 14

Winter had settled in the Bay Area, leaving the air damp and

chilly, but I had a spring in my step anyway, and for the life of me,
I could not stop whistling. I loved the first day of a new semester.
Fresh starts, fresh faces, nobody had yet to disappoint me with
pedantic analyses or pathetic excuses about why they couldn’t get
their papers in on time. Anything could happen on a first day, and
the two classes I’d had that morning held more promise than any
I’d had since I’d started working at Stanford.

Though some of them were strangers, I smiled and nodded at

the people I passed, in too exuberant a mood to contain it. Some of
them actually smiled back. Perhaps everybody was feeling it in the
air today, that sense of anything is possible, that you could do no
wrong, no matter what.

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150

I needed to get it into check before going home. I’d be mocked

into next week for acting like this.

I was almost to the administration offices when I heard

someone calling my name. I turned my head and scanned the area,
curious about who would use my first name on campus, though the
next time I heard it, it had been switched to “Dr. Marks!”

A scrawny blond jogged closer, clearly aiming for me. I waited

patiently as he approached, but my mind was working as I tried to
place his identity. He didn’t look familiar. He was older than most
of the other students, though dressed in the traditional threadbare
T-shirt and jeans ensemble favored by them, and he had an
unfortunate skin problem that made my face hurt just looking at it.
Dark, intelligent eyes gleamed up at me when he came to a stop.
He had the features of someone who should have been memorable,
but for the life of me, I had no idea who he was.

“Can I help you?” I asked.
The crooked smile he’d worn faded a little, his eyes narrowing

as they swept over me. “You’re really on the move today. I’ve
been trying to get your attention for the last half a block.”

“I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little distracted. I didn’t hear you until

just now.”

“Got your nose to the grindstone already, huh?”
“That’s how the first day goes.” I paused, waiting for him to

introduce himself or say what he wanted. When it wasn’t
immediately forthcoming, I prompted, “I’m actually on my way to
my office. Did you need something now, or…”

“Oh, no, I just wanted to say hi and see how you’re doing.” He

paused. “But you don’t remember me, do you?”

It was embarrassing to admit, but since I’d been obvious

enough about my confusion for him to catch on, I had no choice

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but to own up. “I’m sorry, I don’t. Were you in one of my
classes?”

I wasn’t sure why he hesitated. Maybe he was still disappointed

about the hole in my memories. But after a moment, his smile
turned sheepish. “Yeah. A few terms ago. That’s probably why
you don’t remember.”

“Probably.” I’d bet the skin condition was a new thing. Without

it, I was positive I could have ID’d him. “Still around, then?”

“Can’t get rid of me. I’m like a bad penny. I always turn up.

But look at you. You’re looking great. I thought I even heard you
whistling when you walked by.”

“You did, but don’t tell anybody. You’ll ruin my rep.”
“Things must be looking up for you, then.”
“I definitely can’t complain.” Though I found it curious that he

would ask. My life had been pretty good for a while now. “What
about you? Did you have a good break?”

“Yeah, actually. I spent it helping a friend out. Helped him get

back with his boyfriend.”

I liked this guy. I wish I could remember more about him. “I’m

sure he appreciated that.”

“Well, they kind of disappeared before I got a chance to see

how they were working out, but I’ll bet they’re doing just fine.” He
started to back away. “Look, I know you’re busy, so I won’t keep
you. I just wanted the chance to see you again, say hi, that kind of
thing.”

He was too far away to shake his hand, so I nodded instead.

“Have a good semester.” Turning, I made it only a few steps before
I stopped and called back, “Hey, what’s your name? In case I run
into you again somewhere.”

His grin was infectious, and for a moment, I thought I caught a

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

152

glimpse of a sharper canine than normal. “Lemuel.” He winked.
“Tell Leandro I said hi.”

He bounded off before I could add anything more. I lost him

when he merged into a crowd of coeds.

The whistling resumed as I went about my way again, not

stopping until I stepped out of the stairwell and onto the floor that
held my tiny office. I was luckier than some of the other faculty. I
didn’t have to share. Somebody had left just before I came on staff,
and I’d been shuttled into its space before the other professors
could start fighting amongst themselves for it. Many of them
teased me about coming out of a closet every time I emerged, but I
knew the games hid a wee bit of jealousy. I didn’t let the
comments bother me.

When I slid my key into the lock, however, it turned easily,

open already. I frowned. I was sure I’d locked it before heading out
to my first class that morning. Carefully, I pushed the door open,
peering around the edge to see if anyone was inside.

The sight of Leandro sitting at my desk, messing around in

iTunes on my laptop, banished my concerns.

“What’re you doing here?” I dropped my pack to the floor and

shut the door for privacy. The department knew about us, but hell
if I wanted to give anybody a free show. “I thought you had to go
to the vet this morning.”

“I did.” He clicked on a final purchase, and then swiveled

around in my chair to face me with an easy smile. My heart flip-
flopped. If I lived to be a hundred, I’d never get tired of that smile.
“Kuro and Cap got all caught up on their shots, so I dropped them
off at home and came in to take my guy out to lunch to celebrate
the first day of the new semester.”

A step closer and I stood in front of him, leaning down to cage

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

153

him in by bracing my hands on the desk. “I’m not interested in
going out to lunch.”

“Not hungry?”
My mouth hovered over his, lips a fraction away from

touching. I could smell his breath, sweetened by the creamer of his
morning coffee. My taste buds prickled to do more than get a whiff
of it. “Not really.”

Lifting a hand, he toyed with my tie. I only ever wore them for

work, though sometimes, if Leandro caught me before I undressed
for the day, he’d beg me to wear it all night. I usually did—at least
until I took it off to tie him to the bed.

“I should probably go, then,” he murmured, though we both

knew he wasn’t going to move an inch off that chair. “Let you get
ready for your afternoon classes.”

“Don’t you dare.”
I sealed my mouth over his, taking the deep kiss we both

wanted. We’d parted ways just a few hours ago, but he was never
far from my thoughts or desires. I thought about him when I was in
the middle of lectures, or if I caught a glimpse of a dark-skinned
man out of the corner of my eye. I got hard when someone would
walk by wearing his cologne, and forget about hearing someone
with a similar-sounding name. My head always turned, because I
expected to see him standing there, talking or listening or looking
at me. There was no such thing as too much of him, even when we
spent entire days in each other’s company.

His fingers curled around my tie, dragging me closer when I

tried to break the kiss. “More.” He licked across my bottom lip.
“Don’t stop there.”

I chuckled. “I thought you wanted me to get ready for my

afternoon classes.”

CAPRICORN: FORGOTTEN FACES

154

“I lied.”
“People will hear us.”
“I don’t care.”
“That’s because you don’t work here.”
His thick lashes lifted so he could stare into my eyes. The black

pools glowed with heat and love, calling out the same reactions
from within me. “Would you really send me away?”

He posed the question as a sulky tease, meant to goad me into

pushing him onto the desk and fucking him then and there. I was
still going to do that, but the casual query provoked a deeper
response, too, one I couldn’t contain with the way he was looking
at me.

“I couldn’t,” I promised. I kissed him again, this time

delicately, my lips lingering on his for long seconds I hated to end.
“You’re my heart, Leandro. I lose you, and I lose the very best part
of me.”

I felt his smile. “Just don’t forget that.”
“Never.”

IVIEN

EAN

Vivien Dean has had a lifetime love affair with stories. A multi-
published author, her books have been EPPIE finalists, Romantic
Times Reviewer’s Choice Nominees, and reader favorites. After
spending her twenties and early thirties traveling, she has finally
settled down and currently resides in northern California with her
husband and two children.

For more information about Vivien and her books, visit her
website at

http://www.viviendean.com

* * *

Don’t miss Aries: Riddle Me Wicked

by Vivien Dean,

available at AmberAllure.com!

On his first day on a dig in California, gunshots awaken Ian
Tunbridge, an assistant curator of classical antiquities at the
British Museum. The only way to save his life is to run for it, but
luck is not on his side. At least, not until he meets Lucas Arpini, the
brash American photographer who seems to have some sort of clue
what’s going on. Together, they’re supposed to be the tools in

finding an artifact nobody believes is real—nobody, that is, except
Lucas and the man who has kidnapped both of them.

Ian doesn’t know what to believe. His colleagues are dead, he’s
injured, and he has no choice but to put his faith in a gorgeous
stranger. Their escape should lead them straight to the police, but
when Lucas shows him pieces of the puzzle they were meant to
solve, Ian is too intrigued to walk away. He wants to solve the
riddle as badly as Lucas does.

Unfortunately, they’re not the only ones…

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