If you thought that, I said as Alec bowed his good-byes and gently herded me toward the doorway full of liches, then why did you not take me with you?
Ah, he said, somewhat abashed, there was the issue of you having the messenger removed from Abaddon. I simply wished to ensure that they weren’t going to make a case out of that before I brought you here.
“From now on, we tackle trouble together, OK?” I told him as we stopped in front of the mass of liches. “It’s what couples do.”
“So long as it doesn’t endanger you, yes,” he said as Jane shooed her liches out the door ahead of her. We followed behind her.
“Not acceptable. Oh, by the way, we owe Jane a whole ton of money for portalling everyone here to save your butt.”
“You portalled all the liches? ” he asked, looking horrified as his eyes roamed over the stream of bodies moving their way down the stairs and out of the house.
“You said you were rich, and I had to do something to save you,” I muttered to him.
“Comfortable, mi corazón. I’m comfortable, not rich.”
I shot him a look.
“All right, I’m relatively wealthy. But still, you couldn’t have had them take the train?”
“A lich army doesn’t ride a train,” I scoffed, my heart singing a song of lightness and happiness, one that would be suitable for the end of a Disney movie, the kind where birds sing, squirrels dance with chipmunks, and the hero and heroine gaze swooningly at each other.
The squirrels and chipmunks have gone to bed, Alec said, his eyes alight with a familiar glint. But I will tell you how much I love you if it makes you look swoonily at me.
I would, but there’s still that one concern. That de Marco guy—why did he want Ulfur to lock you away? Do you think he had some evil plans for you?
Possibly.
And what about Brother Ailwin? He seemed pretty pissed at us. I wouldn’t put it past him to try to get revenge for the fact that I’m no longer a Tool. Man, I have got to stop saying that!
He laughed into my brain and, as we reached the street, pulled me up tight against his body, his breath mingling with mine just as our souls seemed to do. My love, my heart, all will be well. Let go of those concerns, and give yourself up to your happy ending with your prince.
“You are so not a prince,” I said, punching him in the shoulder as he scooped me up and carried me down the street to where one of those horse-drawn carriages that drove tourists around Vienna was slowly making its way. He yelled something in German at the driver, who obligingly stopped. “You’re an annoyingly arrogant bloodsucker who thinks he’s going to get his way in everything, and you’re dead wrong there, Alec. I mean it. Stop thinking that you’re going to let me believe I can have my way but you’ll secretly have yours anyway. Alec! You just did it again! Oooh, with the silk rope? Really? That sounds . . . oooh! All right, maybe you can have your way about that, although the feathers and leg restraints are just downright kinky. . . .”
My Heart Will Go On and On
Enjoy Katie MacAlister’s bonus short story
“My Heart Will Go On and On”
featuring Cora and Alec!
Monday
Six p.m.
“What do you see, Corazon?”
“Um. Mud.” I sensed the hypnotherapist’s disapproval of my answer, and qualified it. “Well, mud and grass and stuff like that. But mostly just mud.”
“Are you sure she’s under?” Patsy asked, her voice sounding dubious. “She doesn’t look hypnotized to me. CORA! Can you hear me?”
“I’d have to be five miles away not to hear you,” I said, cracking open an eye and peering at her from where I lay prone on the couch. “I’m hypnotized, you idiot, not deaf.”
“Is she supposed to know she’s hypnotized?” Terri asked, sitting on the floor across from me, watching with bright, interested eyes. “That doesn’t negate the regression, does it?”
“Hypnotism isn’t a magical state of unknowing,” Barbara the hypnotherapist answered. “She is simply relaxed, in touch with her true inner spirit, and has opened up her mind to the many memories of lifetimes past. I assure you that she is properly hypnotized.”
“Let me get a pin and poke her with it,” Patsy said, bustling over to a bookcase crammed full of books and various other items. “If she reacts, we’ll know she’s faking it.”
“No one is poking me with anything!” I shot my friend a quelling look.
“Please, ladies,” Barbara said with a glance at her watch. Poor woman. I felt for her doing personal regressions at Patsy’s yearly “Girls’ Night In” party. Luckily, there were only three of us this year. “We have limited time. Corazon is in a light trance, also referred to as an alpha state. Through that, she has tapped into her higher self, her true Infinite Being, a state in which she is free to bypass the boundaries of time.”
“Yeah. Bypassing all that stuff,” I said, giving my friend a smirk. “So sit back and watch the show. What do I do now, Barbara?”
“Look around you. Examine your surroundings. Tell us what you see, what you feel.”
“I see mud. I feel mud.”
“There has to be more to her past life than mud, surely,” Terri said, reaching for the bowl of popcorn.
“Are there any buildings or other structures around to give you an idea of what year you are reliving?” Barbara asked.
“Um . . . nothing on the left side other than a bunch of forest. I seem to be standing on a dirt path of some sort. Let me walk to the top of this little hill—oh! Wow! There’s a town down below. And it looks like there’s a castle way up on a tall cliff in the distance. Lots of tiny little people are running around in some fields outside of the town. Cool! It’s like a medieval village or something. Think I’ll go down to say hi.”
“Excellent,” Barbara said, adjusting the video camera she was using to record the session. “Now tell me, how do you feel?”
“Well . . .” I examined the scene my mind had created; whether it was from a past life or just a fertile imagination, I had no way of knowing. “I’m kind of hungry. No, really hungry. Kind of an intense hunger, throbbing inside me. Oh great, I’m a peasant, aren’t I? I’m a poor starving peasant who stands around in mud. Lovely.”
“We are not here to make judgments on our past selves,” Barbara said primly.
“Geesh, Cora,” Patsy said, looking disgusted. “Terri turned out to be Cleopatra’s personal maid, and I was one of Caesar’s concubines. You’re letting down the team, here. The least you could do is be a medieval princess in a big hat or something.”
I looked closer at my mind-self. “I have shoes on. Peasants didn’t wear shoes, did they?”
“Some did, I’m sure,” Terri said, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth as she watched my past-life regression.
“Can you walk to the town?” Barbara asked, moving a light slightly so it was off my face. “Perhaps we can find out who you are.”
“Yeah. I’m going down the hill now. Hey, watch where you’re—oh my god. Oh my god! OMIGOD!”
“What? What’s happened?” Barbara asked, looking worried.