Page 82 of Unraveling Fate

“You—?” She tickled his stomach in mock outrage.

Taran struggled to talk through his laughter. “I thought it best to try it one more time, just in case. If it worked, there’d be no need to go through with this heist.”

Cadenza refused to let up, digging between his ribs. “Do you give up?”

“Never!” he gasped, tears streaming down his cheeks. He caught her hands and rolled on the blanket, pinning her beneath his weight. “But I will admit that it’s blueberry.”

She laughed and buried her face in his shoulder, letting his heartbeat surround her.

“Come on, let me try what you brought.” He sat up and pulled the basket closer.

“My father’s recipe,” she said, scooping him a plateful. “Pasta alla salsiccia. He’d make it every Sunday in the slow cooker.” She put her fingers to her lips. “Don’t tell the pasta police.”

Cadenza took a forkful from her own plate, losing the mental battle to stay present. “September 15th. My plane ticket deadline.” Giulia had said Ilaria was in trouble with a mafioso. Where was she now? What happened to her when she didn’t produce the money? She dropped her fork on the plate, appetite gone.

Taran set his plate down and held her from behind. “I’m sorry, love. You’ll still get there.”

She frowned. He didn’t include himself in that sentence.

“And Canon.” She vented another thought crowding her mind. “I can’t believe he was spying for Thomas.”

“I can.” Taran grunted.

She laid her cheek on his chest, letting the harp of the creek mix with his drums. “Your dad forgave him so quickly.”

She could hear the eye roll in his voice. “I can believe that too. Father is too forgiving. Take me, for example. He should have left my sorry arse behind years ago.”

She sat up and grabbed his face with both hands. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.” She held his gaze, refused to let him look away. Gold melted into his rhythm, half-formed words, and near-hopes struggling in his eyes.

“Cadenza,” he began, voice ragged. He dropped his chin, rested his forehead on her hair.

“Where would you go?” she interrupted before he could insist again that he had no future. “If you could go anywhere right now.”

Taran drew in a shuddering breath. “There used to be a wee cottage on the shore of the North Sea. My mother grew up there, and we’d visit sometimes. The sea birds would greet and cry, all lonely, and the grass at the edge of the beach was sharp enough to slice your feet.”

“Really? It cut your feet?” she teased.

“Well, it would have cutyourfeet,” he amended with a chuckle. “But the house always smelled of fresh bread and salt.” He picked at the dry grass. “It’ll be naught but rubble now.”

Cadenza traced her fingers along his cheekbones, his eyelids, his lower lip. She kissed the corner of his mouth, softly, not wanting to interrupt the play of memories over his face. “You will see these places again. We’ll get you there.”

He shook his head, the corners of his mouth tugging downward. “We’ll see.”

Finger imprints marredthe frame around Harriet’s portrait. Grooves worn smooth over the centuries from Thomas holding on to what was left of his wife.

“What can I teach her, Harriet?” he whispered, rubbing his thumb across the frame once more. “I asked her to come back, but I’m not you.”

Cadenza’s phone call yesterday had surprised him. And he wasn’t easy to surprise. At least he didn’t used to be easy to surprise. His Second Sight, gifted to him by the Fates so long ago, had dimmed these last few years. Thomas still saw more than the nameless masses of humans slogging through their lives ever saw, but there were gaps in his vision now.

Nora knocked on his office door and showed Cadenza in. His heart clenched. So young. She was so young.

Harriet and he had not had children before she died.

“Cadenza,” he tried to smile. “Thank you for coming. I understand this cannot be easy for you.”

“You mean working with someone who won’t release the man I’m in love with from a vindictive curse?” she responded, and he could hear her attempt at a joking tone.

“Aye, that. But you can’t live your life blowing up chandeliers.” He paused. “And I am glad to see you again.”