Something that reminded him of a warm spring day after a harsh winter. It had been a long time since anyone had touched him the way she did. A long time since someone had stayed in his thoughts.
"You like her."
He turned his head to look over his shoulder at the spirit that flickered there. "She's interesting," he said to Ceara.
Ceara moved forward to stand by his side. Her pale cheeks held an ethereal blush as she shimmered between this plane of existence and the next.
She should have crossed completely over to her eternal rest or rebirth centuries before, but she had refused to leave him alone.
And though it was terribly selfish, Talon had been grateful for her company. Especially back in the days when he'd been unable to stay in touch with his Dark-Hunter brethren via modern technology.
Back then, his isolation had been hellish. He'd spent days alone, never daring to let any human near him for fear of his curse. Never daring to reach out to anyone for anything.
The only relief he'd known was his sister's infrequent visits.
But every time he looked at Ceara, he was painfully reminded of how badly he had failed her. He should have been able to help her the day she died. Had he not been a fool, she would have lived out the life she deserved. A life filled with a husband and children.
Instead, she'd been sacrificed because he had been a stupid, arrogant ass.
The first time she'd come to him after their deaths had shattered him. There had been no accusations from her, no hatred, even though he deserved it.
She had shown him only compassion and love.
"I promised you I would never leave you alone, my brathair. And I won't. I will always be here for you."
Over the centuries, her presence had been the only thing that kept him grounded and allowed him to function. Her friendship and love had always meant everything in the world to him.
Ceara brushed a sisterly hand over the bruise on his right thigh. He couldn't feel it like a real touch, but the gesture caused his skin to tingle. "It no longer bothers you?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Speirr," she said, speaking his name in their native Celt. "You know to be honest with me, brathair."
He reached to brush a tendril of blond hair from her cheek, only to remember he couldn't touch her.
He closed his eyes as he remembered the past.
Their clan had slain her just days before her sixteenth birthday.
"She will be our sacrifice to the gods and they shall forgive us for the transgressions of our leader..."
Talon clenched his teeth against the grief and guilt that swelled inside him. Her death had been his fault. He had killed her as surely as if he'd been the one holding the knife.
But he pushed those thoughts away and found the numbness he needed to function.
I'm no longer human and there is no past. Acheron's litany ran through his mind, allowing him to suppress everything.
There was only now and the future. His human life far behind him, he was a Dark-Hunter whose entire existence was to seek out and destroy the evil that preyed on the humans who had no knowledge of what lay in the darkness waiting for them.
"My leg"-unlike his heart-"only hurts a little."
She shook her head at him. "This is not a safe place for you, Speirr. There is too much light. I don't like for you to be here."
"I know. I'm leaving as soon as I can."
"Very well, then I shall leave until you need me."
She faded away and left him alone. Again.
Talon's gaze fell to the counter where Sunshine had been sitting when he joined her. He frowned as he caught sight of the sketch she'd been working on.
Picking it up, he was impressed by how well she had captured his likeness.
The woman was a brilliant artist. She was able to put emotions and meaning into even the simplest of lines. He'd never seen anything like it.
Unfortunately, he couldn't leave it here.
He tore the page out and used his powers to burn it. Dark-Hunters were forbidden to allow their likenesses to be captured in any medium or form. No one needed proof of their immortality. Such evidence would only lead to questions and complications none of them wanted.
He just hoped she didn't reproduce it after he left.
Talon glanced around the loft and noted that the entire area was littered with framed and unframed art. The floor, a long drawing table, and three easels were scattered with half-finished projects.
Crossing the room, he went to examine them closer. He lost track of time as he looked them over, then found more paintings leaning against the wall by the bedroom. Sunshine liked vivid colors in her work, and her brushstrokes on canvas were as light and gentle as the lady herself.
But it was her pottery that fascinated him most. The pieces were a fiery mixture of color, and the designs of them were far from modern. She must have studied Greek and Celtic cultures extensively to reproduce such authentic copies. It was remarkable how true to the past they were. If he didn't know better, he would swear a Were-Hunter had brought them forward in time.