Chapter Thirty-Four

Dom's grilled cheese was pretty wonderful. He made garlic butter to grill the sandwiches in, turning the bread into garlic bread. The soup was just from a can, but he doctored that with some cream. All in all, it was an excellent lunch. Two dates done, one left to go.

Declan and I decided on Thai food for dinner. After it was delivered, he packed it in a basket, took my hand, and led me out to the backyard. Although, calling it a backyard was a little offensive. It was a garden. No, not a garden, but several stuck together. Like the Gardens of Versailles, Declan had turned their backyard into an adventure. A winding path led through one type of garden and into another, each space defined with something different—hedges, rows of flowers, trees, low walls, water features, and iron trellises. It went on and on.

I thought it might be awkward to go on this date after what had happened with Dominic. I expected to feel embarrassed. But Declan was so sweet, greeting me with a smile when I met him downstairs. There was no judgment, expectations, or smugness in his eyes. He was simply happy to see me.

So I relaxed as we walked, the path changing from flagstones to grass, to pebbles. Finally, we came to the last garden—a space defined by mature trees. I wouldn't have known there was a garden beyond them if not for the path. Even then, I thought it might lead to a meadow with a picnic table or something like that.

Nope. Declan had hidden his masterpiece like a treasure to be found by those determined enough to look. We went down the dirt path between eucalyptus, oak, and pine trees—each one majestic—and came to an iron gate. Wisteria wound through the iron walls and over the arch above the gate, creating a fairy tale fringe of purple blooms. The gate itself was free of the twining branches, giving a glimpse of the garden beyond through its iron scrollwork. That glimpse had me gasping.

Declan smiled as he opened the gate and took me through. Wisteria blossoms brushed my cheek as if in greeting. It felt like stepping through a portal into another world. The trees had shaded us, but passing through the gate brought us into the sun. That bright light warmed my skin and released the perfume of the multitude of flowers crammed into the oval garden. And yet it wasn't overwhelming. The scent remained light and sweet. Beautiful.

At first, the garden seemed overgrown, what with the amount of plants stuffed into it. But it had been designed to look that way and upon closer inspection showed the care that had been put into each plant's placement. There were staggered tiers created by flowers that grew at different heights. Not rows, mind you. Nothing so rigid. No, Declan had alternated the levels of plants so that the eye went up and down, following the differing heights, always drawn to something new. Even the ground was interesting, with succulents growing out of low, natural rock walls that formed the flowerbeds.

Declan took me around an orange tree that grew in the center of the path, and then I stopped short. He looked back at me. I saw him turn out of the corner of my eye. But my focus was on the iron dome before me. It rose from the grass in sharp, Gothic arches that were softened by the cap of the roof. Climbing roses grew up the iron, spotting the black metal and greenery with bright crimson like drops of blood.

I stepped forward in a daze. There, beneath the dome, waited an iron table covered in a white cloth and set with fine china and silverware. Silk cushions softened the seats and an ice bucket stood to one side, holding a bottle of champagne.

“This is so much better than going out,” I whispered.

Declan grinned as he went past me and set the picnic basket on one of the four seats. He started unpacking our food. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Like it?” I went up and put a hand on his, stopping him. “Declan, this is amazing. You did all this? I mean, the garden.”

“Yes,” his voice and expression went soft. “I planted everything. Planned it all many years ago and added to it as it grew.” He looked around, then up. “I nurtured these trees from seeds. Back then, there weren't nurseries you could go to and buy plants. I had to forage the seeds or saplings.”

“Holy shit.” I gaped at him. “The trees? You planted these trees? They must be over fifty years old.”

“Oh, much older than that.” Declan smiled at me. “This is my sanctuary. I've spent hundreds of years building it. You're the first person I've brought here. Dom and Dare saw it in the beginning stages, but they haven't ventured out here in many years. They don't appreciate the garden as much.”

“They don't? How can they not?”

“They think it's pretty, but they don't look at it as you do. There's no wonder in their eyes. Thank you for that. The way you're looking at my work is more fulfilling than I expected.”

“Declan, I'm glad I can give you that, but you shouldn't need me to fulfill you. This is amazing. It's a wonderland. I could live back here.” I looked around and shook my head. “I can hardly believe it's real.”

“You're wrong,” he whispered.

I looked back at him. “About what?”

“I do need you to fulfill me.” Declan's stare lowered to my lips.

It all went so slowly, and I was grateful for that. I savored every second of sliding closer to him. I saw every nuance of his expression. The joy. The pride. The hope. Then our lips met, and it wasn't fireworks. It was better than that. It was comfort and care. It was a meeting of kindred spirits. Soul mates? Maybe. The possibility bloomed between us more vibrantly than his wonderland.

As if he knew how precious the moment was, Declan eased back before our kiss could shift into something more passionate. But he paused a few inches away to smile at me. “I already feel fulfilled.”

“Thank you for sharing this with me.” I waved at the table. “And you did so much to make it even more special.”

“Your smile alone made it worth carting everything down here.” He shook his head and grinned self-consciously. “Sorry. That was cheesy.”

I grinned back. “I like a man who makes an effort. And a bit of cheese.”

“I'll sprinkle a little into our conversation then. But I don't want to overdo it.” Declan shifted back further and then came around the table to pull out a chair for me.

“Thank you,” I said again as I sat down.

Declan moved the chair beneath me so I wouldn't have to deal with shifting the heavy iron into place. Then he finished unpacking the food. As he worked, the sunlight faded at last, the long day finally giving up the fight, its colors clawing the sky as it went and leaving autumnal streaks behind. I watched it and Declan, letting him get everything situated. This was his date. He'd put a lot of planning into it, and I wasn't about to ruin things by trying to help.

At last, Declan sat down and opened the takeout containers. The scent of peanuts, lime, and coconut rose to mask the flowers. But the blooms were headed to sleep anyway, and we were hungry. When Declan opened the container of spring rolls, I started to salivate.

“Help yourself to a spring roll while I open the champagne,” he said.

I didn't hesitate. I opened the sauce, then snatched up a spring roll and dunked it. The flavor of pork, veggies, and rice noodles, combined with the sweet and tangy sauce, made me groan. Then came the soft pop of the cork, dampened by the dishtowel Declan had wrapped around the bottle. He grinned at me as he poured two glasses.

“What can I get you? A little of everything?” Declan asked.

“A lot of everything,” I said.

“Of course.” He filled my plate with pad thai, sticky rice, cashew chicken, garlic beef, and yellow curry, all while I nibbled on spring rolls. Only when I had a heaping amount of food before me did he fill his plate, prompting me with, “Don't wait for me. Eat.”

“Thank you, Declan,” I said softly.

He looked up, met my stare, and his went tender when he said, “You're welcome.”

We ate in companionable silence for a while and then, as if by magic, lights came on above us, twinkling among the roses.

“Oh, how lovely,” I whispered. “Are they on a timer?”

“They're solar,” Declan said. “They come on when it gets dark. There are more throughout the garden, to light our way home.”

“ This feels like home,” I whispered as I looked around. “Better than home.”

Declan didn't say anything, so I looked back at him. He was staring at me with an unreadable expression.

“What is it?” I asked.

“You're so lovely,” he said. “I've never felt so grateful to Hades.”

I looked down.

“I know,” Declan hurried to say. “You're not sure. But I am, Amélie. The three of us are. We've waited so long. I started to lose faith in Hades. But I understand it now. It took that long because it had to be you. You had to be drawn to us. Not just your soul, but your soul at this time, with all the experiences that have made you who you are. Only this you can unite the four of us. How wondrous is that? How magical. To find love that lasts forever between two people is miraculous, but four?” He shook his head. “Imagine how the magic had to hunt through the years and evaluate all the billions of people on the planet to find the perfect match. It's both astonishing and humbling. I'm so grateful to be the recipient of this gift.”

As he spoke, I met his stare again. He sounded like a poet. A romantic. But he was a hardened warrior. A killer now, without limitations. He had probably been a killer in his last life too. Hades would want the best to serve him. A killer with the soul of a poet. What a beautiful contradiction Declan was. And his words shivered through me as if he were the witch, casting a spell on me. They had power, and I was betting it was over me alone.

“You're very convincing,” I said, then sipped my champagne. “And you have excellent taste in wine.”

Declan nodded as if I had said much more than that and his expression withdrew, pulling back some of the wonder and hope. Tempering it for where I was at—which was obviously not where he was. He took a breath and regrouped. “So, you know I like to make things grow.” He motioned at the garden. “And I have good taste. I know you like to help people with your magic and your soul is pure. Oh, and you love cats.”

“One, in particular,” I said. “And I know you're a badass.”

He chuckled. “Thank you. I assume it's a carryover talent from my last life. We don't train a lot. Work out, yes, but not train. We probably should.”

“Do you wish you knew who you were? I mean, before this?”

Declan shook his head. “It doesn't matter to me. Reincarnated souls don't get to know who they were before. That's how it is for everyone, and I don't think it should be any different for Cerberuses. I think there's a purpose behind it. Souls learn from their past lives, but that knowledge is ingrained in our subconscious. Like my talent for battle. That's the only way we can benefit from our past lives without being hindered by them. If we remembered everything, I think it would get in the way. It might even mess up our minds. What if you were deeply in love in a past life? In your new one, without that lover, you'd feel despondent. It would be difficult to fall in love again.”

“I think you're right. Reincarnation is all about moving forward. You can't do that when you're looking back. In fact, I think life should be lived in a similar way. The past is old news. People always say you have to remember it so that you don't repeat it, but I think it's the opposite. As a witch, I know that whatever you focus on, put energy into, you magnify. You give it power. So, if you focus on the past instead of the future, you can't help but repeat it. You get trapped in an endless cycle of the same things.”

“Yes!” Declan pointed at me. “That makes sense. Always look forward. That's a lesson from the myths.”

“Which myth?”

“Do you know the one about Orpheus and Eurydice?”

“Yes. The man who petitioned Hades to release his dead wife.” I leaned forward. “Is it true?”

“No, of course not. Souls do escape the Underworld, but Hades does not release them. Not like that. Think about it. Where would Eurydice's soul have gone if Hades had released her? Her body was already decomposing. She would have become a zombie.” He waved his hand as if to banish the tangent he was heading down. “The humans made up the myth, but it's a good one. I mean, most myths are trying to teach something.”

“And that one tells us to never look back,” I said.

“Exactly! Not in life or death. Freedom can only be achieved by looking forward.”

Shivers ran over me and something expanded inside my chest. I lifted my glass. “To looking forward.”

Declan lifted his glass and repeated, “To looking forward.”

The clink of our flutes seemed to ripple through me and the world, announcing that something had just changed. Hopefully, for the better.