wound that isn’t any less painful for how long Maximus has endured it. “He has questions too. He knows he’s not like everyone else.”
“Does he know about you?”
“Of course not.” I rear back defensively. “I’d never tell him about the family.”
Somehow admitting to Maximus that I’m a demon—he’d never believe me anyway—seems a lot worse than falling into bed with him. Which would be all wrong. On so many levels.
Dangerous levels.
Which means a few casual fantasies are worth forgiving myself for. It’s not like Maximus will ever find out. He’ll never know enough about me to understand what it truly means to be a Valari. No one outside our closed circle ever will. But being vague about it just makes me sound like a poor little rich girl—entitled and pouty. From what little he’s shared, I can tell his childhood wasn’t without its struggles, financially and otherwise, that would make mine look like spilled chocolate milk in comparison.
But still, I want to know more about him. All about him.
Every time he shares a little morsel from his personal life, I find myself driven to uncover more. Maybe it’s the same for him. Maybe he wants to find my truth the way I’m preoccupied with finding his.
“What are you going to do, Kara?”
My grandfather’s question is the same one that’s plagued me from nearly the minute I met Maximus. What do I do about this impossible temptation? The addictive possibility of Maximus…
“I can’t stop seeing him,” I finally say.
Gramps is strangely neutral about his answering regard. Finally he murmurs, “You’re pretty sure about that.”
“I am.” I stamp everything I am into the statement. “Even if I wanted to, at this point my fascination far exceeds my willpower to stay away.”
Another heavy pause. He pushes his empty bowl away, and the wooden chair squeaks when he rests back against it. “You sensed he was more than he seemed to be. What makes him so different?”
“Some of it is just really difficult to ignore,” I say. “For starters, he’s…enormous. A god among men.”
“You can chalk that up to exceptional genetics.”
This time I’m quirking the eyebrow. “Can’t we all?”
He grins. “That’s not what I meant.”
“It’s not just that. I’ve seen what he’s capable of. I’ve never witnessed his kind of strength before. I’ve seen him heal too. He tried to brush it off as nothing, but there was nothing human about it.”
He hums again. This time it’s more thoughtful, like maybe he’s trying to unravel the mystery of Maximus too. “His mother must have some answers.”
“Maximus is sure she knows more than she’s telling him.”
“Maximus?”
I blink as I realize I’ve never uttered his name to Gramps before.
“Maximus Kane.” I let go of another tense sigh. “You might as well know now. He’s a literature professor at Alameda.”
He holds my stare for a long moment. “You’re playing with fire.”
I shift in my chair, suddenly feeling uncomfortable…on the brink of unnerved. The intensity in Gramps’s stare…they’re not like anything I’ve witnessed from him before. And the energy behind them, hitting me like zaps of fire in a snowdrift, make me alternately hot and cold.
“I know.”
“Do you? Really?”
“What does that mean?” I snap defensively.
“You’re risking everything, Kara.”
I scoff, but it’s a rickety sound. Whatever is building with Maximus is becoming so much stronger than the fear my grandfather’s warnings should elicit. How can I explain that Maximus is everything I never knew I wanted? How he doesn’t look at me the way everyone else does? How I feel every time he does? How I might never, ever grow tired of it?
“Maybe I’m willing to sacrifice a life of lies to live a moment of truth.”
I don’t know that I can or will, but saying the words out loud almost makes me feel brave enough to act on them.
He closes his eyes and draws his hand across his face. “Kara… You don’t know what you’re saying.”
“I’m saying I don’t know if I can accept the life that’s been handed to me. It’s not fair.”
“It isn’t. But you have no choice in the matter if—”
“If what? You said it yourself. Everyone has a choice.”
“Not when it comes to this.”
“Why?” There’s anger in my demand, but it’s scratching the surface of what I really feel. “Why is this the exception?”
“In our world, decisions carry consequences,” Gramps says tightly. “Consequences that follow you. I’ve spent my life enduring mine, sweetheart. I don’t want to see you make the same mistakes.”
The fervency in his voice gives me pause. He’s always been my