Heaven Sent

Chapter Nineteen

                                            Elijah

"That is most definitely not how it went!"

Paris, of course, is referring to Damien's wild interpretation of a country dance we swore he could recall from memory. The four-hundred year old Parisian vampire prances about the campfire, hopping on and off one foot, grinning like a madman.

"This is truly insulting," Paris continues, admonishing him while laughing at the same time.

Jiayi hollers from the serving line, depositing stew to one human after the next, gracious with each and every single one of them. Damien, in a rare mood, sets gleeful sights on Cassandra. From my place across the fire, I watch her clumsily panic before eventually giving into my sons persisting, rising from her chair at his tugging.

"I don't know how..." she spins and spins under his arm, "What the hell is this dance anyway?"

"Don't worry, darling!" Paris calls out over the vintage lute, helping Jiayi serve. "There is no name for whatever you two are doing!"

"Will you just let us dance?" Damien claps back, shooting a pointed look in his mate's direction.

The entire room is alight with excitement. The omen these people have lived years with has gone dormant. Earlier today, Jiayi received word from one of his informants. The military has received orders to abandon the mountain called Heaven's Gate in the upcoming weeks.

The activity faded. It did so while Cassandra was inside it.

Soon, these people will be free to live as they once did, free to return to their homes, to lead new lives. These earthy walls will no longer imprison them, so it's no surprise tonight represents a celebration of sorts.

In a place confined such as this, a party cannot be fulfilled adequately. In their spirit, they've made food, unearthed their nicest clothes, poured glasses of their best blood for the vampires. There is an air that extends to every soul in the room, alleviating any burdens for a night.

A few others jump up exuberantly, prepared to follow Damien's lead.

Cassandra waves me over, incorrectly assuming I'd embarrass myself in such a manner. "Come on!"

It's troubling how little I can contain what she, like this, can do for a man such as me.

She's impacting.

Her smile—so unbridled and rare in size—stretches across her face with a kind of freedom I've frankly never seen. Ever since she emerged from that mountain, steaming and full of desperation and collided with me, I've noticed differences in her—many of them—yet I cannot seem to put a finger on what prompted the changes.

The necklace that dangles from her throat she said is a talisman of protection.

She was rather tight-lipped about the rest, and while I understandably would never question her in the midst of her showering me with exactly what I've yearned for during all the weeks we've had since she's returned, I cannot resist wanting to know why she is so changed.

What has prompted that in her?

What could provide her the joy I failed to evoke in her?

With a cup in hand, I hold up my arms, refusing to turn about the room with these two fools. "I'm quite content to watch, thank you."

Damien groans. "You're no fun!"

He dips Cassandra back, making up dance sequences on a whim. My eyes follow them, pleased to be witness to this moment. My excessive years have charged me with a disservice. The ability to rarely watch something unfold that I haven't already witnessed in another lifetime.