Miss Me When the Sun Goes Down by Lisa Olsen Read Free Book Online Page A

intimate such a thing could be between our kind, I wasn’t sure I wanted to jump so far so fast, but the siren’s call of his blood had my mouth watering. 
    What would it hurt?  Temptation overrode my intentions, pulling me closer with unseen hands.  My tongue darted out to moisten lips that had suddenly grown parched.  “Maybe just a taste,” I murmured, before my mouth fastened over the pad of his finger, the salty-sweet taste of him immediately flooding my senses. 
    The cut had already closed, and my teeth scraped over his skin, begging for more.  Jakob made no protest when I pierced his finger, a low hum of pleasure emanating from his chest as I drew against the tiny wounds.  The thin trickle that emerged was enough to overwhelm my senses, enslaving me to the power of his blood.
    My eyes slid shut, but instead of darkness, I saw images – fleeting at first, but growing more cohesive as I drank.  I was in a rustic cottage, the curved walls hewn from weathered wood.  A roaring fire painted the room with flickering light, casting shadows on the thatched roof, and the smell of roasting meat hung heavy in the air.  The dirt floor was liberally strewn with wildflowers and fragrant herbs, but I knew this was not a normal occurrence.  
    A woman turned with a smile, her face glowing with joy.  Beautiful… there was something familiar in the curve of her smile… Her wheaten hair was braided back away from her f ace to fall down past her waist.  Smooth amber stones threaded around the slender plaits with silver wire, winking in the firelight.  Her simple homespun dress was dyed a yellow saffron, the over-dress a deep forest green, held up with pins of hammered silver.  Soft leather boots covered her feet. 
    With a soft cry she rushed into my arms, and I inhaled the good clean scent of rosemary and apples, coupled with smoky peat from the fire.  So soft in my arms… the woman – Sanna… her name was Sanna – and she was my wife.  Jakob’s wife.  All at once I understood what I was seeing, these were Jakob’s memories.  Memories of a human wife, in Vadheim. 
    Jakob took her hand and kissed it, the ring on her finger glowing with warm amber fire of its own.  My ring.  Or her ring first, I guess.  There were hushed words of love whispered between them with not a little urgency, words I didn’t recognize but understood well enough.  The endearments grew fewer and far between as his mouth claimed hers.  I rode along, a part of the memory rather than an observer, as she greeted her Viking husband, home from battle as only a dutiful wife should. 
    Caught up in the moment, my body lurched as Jakob pulled his finger away from my questing mouth before it became too intimate for them, or for us.  My eyes fluttered open, slightly dazed as I took in our surroundings, and the slightly amused expression in his blue eyes.  “What was that?” I gasped, drawing in a shaky breath. 
    “I shared a memory with you.”
    “You can do that?”  Obviously he could, and I wondered if I could do the same, but had way too many other questions for him.  “Sanna, she was your first wife?”
    “My only wife,” he nodded, his gaze distant.  “She was betrothed to another, but I took her, as was my right.”
    His right.  He said it like there was absolutely nothing wrong with that statement.  “How did she feel about you taking her like that?”  It was clear to see she loved him from the memory, but I wondered if she’d always felt that way or if it had grown with time. 
    “She soon came around,” Jakob replied, brows twitching together before he distracted himself with a glass of aquavit, downing the contents and refilling both our glasses.  There was more to that story, I was sure of it, but I didn’t want to push.  Instead, I asked the next question that popped into my mind.  “Did you have any children?”
    “No.”
    “Can you um, have children?”
    “It’s possible,” he replied, rolling