Fantasy Romance
I am super excited to share the cover for a new series!
New series, you ask?
Yes!
I did tell my mailing list a few weeks ago. If you would like to be the first to know, please consider signing up. And, you get two free stories as well!
The new series still takes place in the same world as the Knights of Valor, and will even feature a Knight of Valor in the first story. But it will all take place in a distant land that has never heard of the Knights of Valor.
Until now.
You can catch up on the story at Part 1, Part 2 and Part 3.
To Catch a Dragon (Part 4)
They followed the shoreline not sure what they were looking for. Perhaps another footprint. A scale. Or even a dragon bathing in the lake.
Instead, they found a handful of deer, a couple of moose, and even a flock of sheep. All which should have been tasty morsels for a dragon, but no such creature was tempted from the sky.
“Any people missing?” Ndrek asked as he glanced over his shoulder at the sheep.
“No. Livestock seem to be accounted for as well.”
“What I felt may not have been a dragon, but whatever it was, it was far more powerful than the lich Sir Marcus destroyed.”
Knight Kailis frowned. “Maybe you just drank too much ale.”
“It takes far more than Tamarian ale to make me fall down drunk.”
“Maybe it was spiked with something.”
“Let’s say it wasn’t spiked ale that knocked him out,” Vaiya said. “And, for the sake of argument, let’s assume it wasn’t a long dead dragon or elven arch mage. What does that leave?”
Ndrek thought for several long moments, then ticked each off his fingers. “A supremely powerful but untrained and undiscovered sorcerer. A magical relic of immense power. A dragon. An elven arch mage.”
“An untrained sorcerer would be hard to hide,” Vaiya said. “They tend to set themselves and those they love on fire while still in the cradle.”
“That leaves a relic.” Kailis frowned. “I suppose it’s possible.”
“And if true, very dangerous,” Ndrek said.
“We’ll spend the next couple of days searching for any additional clues and following any leads the locals can give us. If you sense that kind of magic again, I’ll send an urgent request for back-up to the Dragon Church.”
“And if not?” Ndrek said.
“Then I make a full report and let the Dragon Church decide. Not sure how much manpower they want to spend on this when they’ve got undead walking the streets in the eastern provinces.”
“I would not wish to return to the eastern provinces. Hard to believe, but the food is better here. So is the smell,” Ndrek said.
Knight Kailis shook her head and led them back to town.
Curiosity burned. Ndrek knew something was out there, something of immense power, but not necessarily hostile. If it were, Kelleran would already be dust.
Church protocol bound Knight Kailis, but it didn’t bind him.
He watched the Knight of Valor conduct the investigation with by-the-book precision, but they knew nothing more when they retired for the day than they had at the beginning.
Ndrek lay in bed and studied the whitewashed ceiling. There was something out there. He could almost feel a whisper of its power. Almost.
Perhaps it was his desire to find the source of the magic that he felt rather than anything else, but he had to know.
His companions were asleep when he slipped out of the inn. He didn’t bother with the invisibility or silence spells. If he did find the presence, such magic would be of no consequence to it.
A sliver of a moon lit his path, and Ndrek augmented it with a faint light spell. No point tripping over a rock, and if this was a dragon, it already knew he was coming.
The familiar patter of his heart fueled him, and Ndrek felt himself come alive. His hearing was sharper, his eyes keener, even his sense of smell heightened.
A dragon. An elven arch mage. Something was out there. Waiting for him.
It would’ve been wiser to wake Kailis or Vaiya, but he didn’t want to endanger them. He had to find the truth, but he wouldn’t let anyone but himself die for it.
Ndrek crested the last hill and saw Lake Meade sparkling in the faint light. A man stood shirtless beside the water. His skin was pale as new fallen snow, and his hair shimmered as it reflected the faint moonlight.
“I knew you would come.”
Ndrek’s magelight spell evaporated as the words rumbled over his flesh. The wizard swallowed back the metallic taste of fear as his entire body trembled.
“You are not the one I seek.” The pale man continued to stare across the lake.
“Who is?”
“I don’t know. I thought I felt her, but I no longer do.”
Ndrek said nothing as the water lapped the shore. He could feel whispers of the same magic pressing against him, but this time, the magic was contained. Wrapped in strong wards that even now were weaving ever tighter and locking away the power.
The man turned to look at him, and Ndrek felt the weight of a thousand mountains in those violet eyes. Millennia of loneliness, isolation, and longing seared Ndrek’s mind in the time it took a firefly to blink. In the same moment, Ndrek’s soul was laid bare, exposing everything he was and all he wasn’t.
The man turned back to the lake, breaking the link.
Managing to stay on his feet, Ndrek forced himself to breathe.
“Go. You will find no dragon here.”
Ndrek nodded and fled to the inn, never looking back.
Ndrek accompanied Knight Kailis and Priestess Vaiya as they spent seven more suns following leads and looking for signs of a dragon, mage, or relic. They found none.
When Kailis asked him over and over about what he’d felt the night they’d found him on the road, Ndrek deflected, saying that perhaps the innkeeper had given him a stronger drink. Or perhaps he’d reacted poorly to something in the rocks or soil.
Kailis didn’t believe him, but she eventually stopped asking.
Three days after they returned home, Ndrek swore under his breath as Sir Leopold tromped into his bar and dropped payment onto the counter.
The Knight pinned him with his faded blue stare that always saw more than Ndrek wanted. “Knight Kailis thinks you found something but won’t tell her.”
Ndrek collected his payment and dropped it into the folds of his cloak. “You will not find a dragon in Kelleran.”
“Not what I asked.”
Ndrek closed his eyes as the memories flooded him, and even in the quiet warmth of his bar, he shivered.
“You look like you saw a ghost.”
“Those are easy to deal with.”
“What did you find?” Leopold folded his arms and waited.
“Doesn’t matter. It didn’t find what it’s looking for.”
“And what was it looking for?”
Ndrek paused a moment. “I think its mate.”
“Then it’s gone for good?”
“I hope so.” But the prickle down Ndrek’s back warned it was an empty hope.
Why do I choose to spend my time reading and writing with everything else in this world that competes for my attention?
Television. Movies. Games. Twitter. Facebook.
Whatever is your choice of diversion. But I’ve chosen books. Why?
For one, I read romance novels, fantasy, and then Sci Fi. I dislike most romantic comedies, so once you exclude those, you’re really not left with much to choose from in the romance category. I can only watch Pride & Prejudice so many times.
Only recently has fantasy and sci fi really gotten any Hollywood love. Even then, there’s only a handful of movies and unless they have huge budgets, they look awful.
At least compared to my imagination.
And then there are the characters. Books, good books, do characters right. I am ecstatic when the bad guy goes down, and I love it when the hero wins because I’m invested in them. It’s much easier to invest me in a character via a book than a movie. That’s just the nature of the genres. I can actually see what the character is thinking and feeling. A good actor can get some of that across, but not like a good author.
TV shows,far more than movies, have a lot of potential for character development, but oftentimes, networks beat their shows to death rather than giving them a graceful ending. I can think of several right now, but X-Files always comes to mind first.
While I love an immersive video game RPGs, so many of them do wrong by the characters. *cough* Danse in Fallout 4 *cough* I feel like video games could be so much more, but they’re not there yet. Maybe they’ll never be. But I can hope. They feel like the closest to books to me, and I love the interactive aspect.
My favorite past time other than reading and writing is playing table top RPGs run by a competent DM. For those not familiar, this means games likes Dungeons & Dragons. Sure, they’ve gotten a bad rap, but our group of friends are all quite respectable and many hold very highly-paid day jobs. No basement dwellers among us, and no one lives at home.
But tabletop RPGs gets back to characters again. A good DM sets up the world and then turns the characters you’ve made loose in it. Yes, they keep the story going, but they never railroad you or force you to do dumb things to keep their plot going. They improvise to keep the players happy and interested. To keep them focused on what’s going on and engaged in the world.
Characters are what keeps me reading and writing.
How about you? What makes you read when you could be doing something else?
Continued from Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4 should you wish to catch up on the story. Or just jump right in.
Not sure if you all are enjoying this. Let me know in the comments below. I can either keep posting pieces of the story, or go back to my regular writer ramblings on Friday.
Post 5
Aenwyn studied the deep red blooms, thinking through the spells she knew and how she could repurpose them.
Reaching for her magic, she teased off a strand and wrapped it around the blossom, coaxing it to change color.
The flower stayed red.
She tried again, taking a different approach and modifying a different spell.
“Closer,” Dryden said.
He linked his fingers with hers so her bare palm pressed against his, and she felt the rush of his magic. Strong. Powerful. Controlled. He could overwhelm her if he chose, sweep her away with the sheer intensity of his magic.
Instead, he guided her, nudging her closer to the correct answer without showing her how to do it. The touch of his magic and the quiet gentleness of his guidance revealed more about him than words ever could.
Her wards offered only a whisper of protection, and she felt as if he could see all she was, all she’d ever been.
Tamping down the fear and vulnerability, she started to pull back.
He allowed her to ease away, but he also lowered his wards for her, wards that were far stronger than any she could hope to breach. By letting her through, Dryden gave her a glimpse of the man who shared her magic.
With both of their wards cast aside, the magic mingled more freely between them. A deeper and more intimate joining that both terrified and delighted her.
Swallowing hard, she forced herself to focus on the flower. She wove the spell, accepting his guidance, and watched the bloom turn yellow.
Excitement swelled through her. She touched another flower and turned it yellow. This time without his help.
“Yes, just like that,” he said. He reached up and caught an escaped strand of her flame-red hair, then trailed his fingers over the exposed flesh of her shoulder.
She closed her eyes as a delicious shiver of pleasure coursed through her.
She felt him strong and powerful beside her, felt his magic flowing through the gardens and around her. The heady fragrance of flowers filled the air, but she barely noticed them over the rich almost electrical scent of him. Like the air after a storm.
He leaned closer, the planes of his chest brushing against her, teasing over the skin her dress left exposed.
Her breath hitched as desire snaked through her. Tightening her hold on his hand, she pressed closer to him, enjoying the sensual contrast of his heavy mage robes against her bare flesh.
Dryden’s hand slid down her back and held her tightly against him as he touched his lips to hers.
Continued from Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, should you wish to catch up on the story. Or just jump right in.
Post 4
His words weren’t a request. Aenwyn sucked in a breath. While she and most of the Empire knew of Mage Lord Dryden, what was said about him wasn’t complimentary. She almost regretted letting Caewyn go.
Almost. She wanted to see her friend happy more than anything.
Gathering up her courage, she walked to the edge of the dance floor then turned to face Dryden. “My apprenticeship? I’m the duchess’s companion, nothing more.”
“I can protect you from Lady Melisandra better than a half-trained wizard can, duchess or not.”
Aenwyn swallowed, and her eyes darted to the crowd.
“Come, let’s talk. I promised to be a gentleman, and I will be.” Dryden offered her his arm, and Aenwyn bit her lip but took it, forcing her hand to remain still despite the fluttering in her stomach.
The sea of guests parted before the mage lord, and he swept her outside and along the paths of the garden.
She could feel the change in him, feel him relax under her fingers as a whisper of his magic seeped through his wards. Sky magic, she was almost certain of it. Sky mages were some of the most powerful, though the title of archmage meant he’d mastered all schools of magic.
No small feat, and it was a testament to his tenacity as well as his intelligence and skill.
They were deep in the gardens when he took a deep breath and let it out. His magic flowed over her like the quiet blanket of night.
“You don’t like the crowds.”
Dryden lifted his shoulders. “Do you?”
“I’ve learned to deal with them.”
“To be Lady Escadia’s companion?”
“A companion is of little use if she never leaves her rooms.”
“And a mage of great potential is of little use if she spends her time as a companion.”
Straightening her spine, Aenwyn glared up at the haughty archmage. “How can someone as offensive as you have such serene magic?”
“The truth is seldom flattering.” He paused then looked at her. “You can feel my magic even through my wards.”
“It leaks. Less so inside than out here. Probably because you’re back under the sky.”
“Gifted and observant. You’re squandering your potential.”
“Not all of us have the birthright to get to do as we choose.”
“A failing of a crumbling empire.”
“I do what I must.”
“Which is why you’re hiding behind Escadia. Listening to her tutors and doing her work for her.”
“You can’t prove that.”
“I don’t have to.” Dryden paused beside a flowering shrub. “Can you turn the blossoms yellow?”
“Why?”
“Because I want to know if you can.”
“I never learned that spell.”
“You are an elven wizard. Can you do it anyway?”
Aenwyn frowned, but she accepted his challenge.
Continued from: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, & Part 4.
End: Second Chance for Paladin Danse
They awoke more tired than when they’d gone to bed. She’d lost track of how many times they’d made love, how many times he’d brought her to climax, and how many times she’d wished her conscious would simply let her marry him.
The thought made her smile, and while wanted it, wanted him, she had to make sure he wanted her. She would have to give up her Vault and the people she loved to be with him and his brothers and sisters. It was a hard choice, but one she’d make. She just didn’t want him to regret asking her to spend the rest of their lives together.
Conversation quieted between them as they walked southwest of Diamond City and came to a small ghost town. No signs of squatters or even raiders.
“Lots of the scientists lived here before the war. We lived in the next town over because Mom didn’t want to be too close to Dad’s work colleagues. She said he worked enough already.”
“Do you want to go up and see it?”
“I left that life behind 200 years ago, and I may be starting a new one in a few months. But this is where we must part ways.”
“I love you, Tesla.”
“And I love you.” She hugged him, and even through the power armor, she felt the tension in him. He didn’t want to let her go, and his every instinct was to fight for what he wanted.
She turned away from him and walked into the silent and abandoned town. She didn’t look back, knowing she didn’t have the strength to continue if she did.
Danse watched her go until he couldn’t see her anymore. He waited another hour, maybe more, before setting the flare that called a veribird.
Paladin Danse returned to the Prydwen, silent and brooding, and found Elder Maxson was waiting. After making a full report to the Elder, Maxson shook his head.
“Shame about those Wastelanders. Holotags were barely dry. Two deathclaws,” Maxson shook his head. “I’ll send a squad out to retrieve the power armor. When you’re ready, I have another mission for you at Fort Strong.”
“Reporting for duty, sir.”
“That’s what I like to hear.”
Danse listened to the mission briefing on Fort Strong. Another dangerous mission. Another chance he might not make it home. Once he wouldn’t have cared, but now… He touched the holotags around his neck.
“Before I send you to Fort Strong, tell me about this Vault Dweller you recommended for admittance into the Brotherhood.”
“Nate, Sole Survivor of Vault 111 and a veteran of the Battle for Anchorage. Skills are sharp. I saw him in action in ArcJet against synths.” Danse paused, considering Nate’s proclivity to pick up junk. “Still acclimating to the wastes after his time in cryostasis.”
“Sounds like a solid addition to the Brotherhood. I’ll have you head back over to the police station. See if you can recruit him. Keeping Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen there to oversee the outpost.”
Danse slapped his fist over his heart in acknowledgment. He turned to leave, then paused. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”
“Of course. What’s on your mind?”
“Back at the Citadel, soldiers and their families were permitted to dwell together.”
Maxson stilled. “Did you get a girl in trouble?”
“No, nothing like that.”
Maxson let out the breath he’d been holding. “In time, after we get the airport fortified, yes, we’ll work on setting up a place for families. Only rare exceptions like you have the same drive and commitment as those born into the Brotherhood.”
A rare smile curved Danse’s lips as he thought of a son of his as a Brotherhood squire. All the more incentive to make it home alive.
But if he didn’t… Elder Maxson wasn’t the right person to ask. Maybe Scribe Haylen. If he didn’t make it back, he wanted Tesla to know that’s why he hadn’t come for her at the end of the six months.
With his mission briefing in hand, Danse went back to the police station in search of Haylen.
***After the story events leading to Blind Betrayal***
“Still thinking about him?”
Tesla looked up from the detail schematic she’d stopped seeing ten minutes ago. She pressed her lips together as glanced at her father and shrugged.
“I want to punch the bastard that hurt you like this, but from the sounds of it, that wouldn’t end well for me.”
Tesla smiled and hugged her father.
“Have to say, though, I’m glad you’re not going back to the Wastes. You made robotics team lead, and with all of the advancements this Institute has made that we’re getting our hands on, it’s going to take a strong person to keep us on the straight and narrow.”
“I know the answer to Turing’s conversation. A machine can have a soul, Papa. I met one that did.”
“All the more reason for us to be careful.” He hugged her and looked down at the tiny receiver she wore around her neck. “And if he ever finds the sense he was born with, maybe you can convince him to join us. I’d rather gain a son, even an unruly one, than lose a daughter.”
“His transmitter is undamaged.” She shrugged. “Perhaps his feelings changed after returning him.”
“Or things in the Wastes are more unpredictable than here in the Vault. If he does stop being stupid, at least consider asking him to join us here.”
“He would never…”
“Did you ask him?”
She looked down.
“At least give him the choice, Tes. And I promise not to hit him. I’d only hurt my hand.” Her father hugged her again and left her to her work.
Tesla’s head jerked up when the tiny receiver around her neck kicked into life. Six months had come and gone so long ago that she’d given up hope. Perhaps not entirely, as she still wore the radio, but…
“Is he really dead?” an unfamiliar female voice asked.
“He’s dead to Brotherhood,” a man said.
“Not the same.”
The man’s voice dropped to little more than a whisper. “I convinced Maxson to spare him, but if anyone in the Brotherhood ever sees him, they’ll shoot him on sight.”
“You found him at Listening Post Bravo,” the woman said.
“Don’t tell anyone else. Don’t even breathe it. Give him time to escape.”
“The Brotherhood was his life,” the female voice said. “I don’t care what they say he is. Danse is a good man.”
“One of the best,” the male voice replied. “Which is why I would’ve gone to blows with Maxson if he hadn’t spared him.”
The tiny battery on her transmitter died and she missed the rest of the conversation, but she knew the Brotherhood had learned the truth about Danse. That they could have cast him out after all they meant to him, all he’d sacrificed for them…
She pressed her lips together as she hurried out of her workroom. Yanking off her clean suit, hairnet, and gloves, she tossed them into a bin as she hurried through the Vault to her room. The glittering power armor stood quietly in the corner. Her bots had been busy, even if she’d lost hope she would ever need it.
She paused a moment as she looked at the suit. Danse hadn’t actually called for her. Hadn’t actually said he wanted her to come back to him.
To hell with it.
If the Brotherhood had kicked him out, he’d be in more pain than when the deathclaw had ripped apart his leg. And if she knew him at all, she knew he’d be destroying himself, blaming himself, because he’d lost everything he loved.
He may not want her as his lover anymore, but she could still offer him the comfort a friend. And he’d need that.
Donning her power armor, she clomped down to the newly built relay station. Hadn’t been too hard to purchase the remains of a dozen synths the Sole Survivor had destroyed. The Institute’s technology was impressive, far more advanced than theirs is some ways, primitive in others.
But once they’d had access to the Institute’s leavings, Vault 010 had been working furiously to unravel how it worked. How and if to use this technology was still being hotly debated by the ethics committee, but the one thing they’d unanimously agreed on was copying their teleportation technology.
When the security officer saw her walking towards him in the power armor, he stepped in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re still proving it out, Tesla.”
“You can either send me to Listening Post Bravo, or I am walking there.”
“You’re a research lead. You can’t go traipsing through the wastes!”
She folded her armored arms over her chest. “You going to stop me?”
The guard glanced at the relay technician and then back at the faceless armor. “Lemme call this in.”
“You have ten minutes.”
Danse sat on the sagging mattress, head in his hands. Why had Nate decided to spare him? The Sole Survivor should have taken him out rather than standing up to Maxson for him. Danse looked down at his hands, still unable to believe he was a machine. An abomination. An example of everything that was wrong with humanity.
How many of his memories were even his? Clearly, he’d never been child. Had his time in Rivet City been real or were they another man’s memories? He couldn’t be sure.
He looked at his laser rifle sitting next to him. Almost impossible to take his own life with it. He looked toward the dead yao guai rotting in the broken ruins of the bunker. Tesla had warned him about it, but he hadn’t wanted to end up here. He’d wanted to go down to the third floor, the one they’d shared for those few weeks. A trip down memory lane before he ended it all. But he hadn’t been able to figure out how to make the elevator go there.
Tesla. She’d probably forgotten him by now. The six months had come and gone. He’d been so wrapped up with dealing with the Institute and helping Nate that he knew he couldn’t have married Her and brought her within the Brotherhood fold. Especially as the airport was being prepared for war with the institute.
She deserved better than that, and he was sure someone in her Vault would give it to her.
Besides, better that she not know the truth about the ‘man’ she thought she loved.
He ran his hands through his hair.
He’d lost everything and everyone who’d ever mattered to him. While it would be easier to just give up, Nate had fought Maxson for his life and won. Nate saw something in him worth saving. Maybe there was, maybe there wasn’t, but Nate was the last man he’d called a friend since Cutler.
Standing, Danse collected his laser rifle, provisions, and ammunition. Maybe he’d head out to the countryside, start a farm or something. Damn the Institute for creating him, for letting him feel pain and loss. He couldn’t quite damn them for having let him love, even if it was a short time.
Hefting his pack, he paused as he heard the elevator engage. It slid past his floor, but he could hear nothing through the rock.
Rifle drawn and aimed, his heart thudded against his ribs. Someone had gotten past Tesla’s security protocols to get down to the third floor. Had Nate come back to end him? Only the Sole Survivor would have the skills to hack past Tesla’s security parameters, and even then, Nate would have to know there was a third floor to get to.
The elevator lit up again, and when the doors opened, a vaguely familiar suit of power armor emerged. The suit held up its hands. It wasn’t Nate. “Don’t shoot.”
“Tesla? What the hell are you doing here?” He lowered his weapon.
She took off her helmet and smiled at him. “I heard you were here.”
She was even more beautiful than he remembered. His chest constricted. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t.”
Her lips pressed together, and the hurt on her face pierced his heart. He reached out for her, then yanked his hand back. She deserved better than a machine.
She stepped out of her power armor and walked over to him, the top of her head brushing his shoulder. Wrapping both of her hands around one of his, she looked up at him.
Her fingers looked so small, pale and fragile compared to his. He laid his other hand overtop of hers, and when he looked up, he found himself caught by eyes as blue as her Vault suit.
“You’re hurting more now than when I found you the first time.”
He couldn’t bring himself to say the words, to tell her the truth about what he was. The lie he was.
“Where’s your power armor?”
His face fell.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around him.
“I’m not a man,” he choked as he pulled away from her. “You should go. You deserve better than a machine can give you.”
“I knew you were a synth long before I fell in love with you.”
His head snapped up. “You knew?”
“You can’t fool my Fixers.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to cause you pain. To see you hate the man I love. And the only way anyone would’ve known would’ve required technology similar to Vault 010s. The Brotherhood meant so much to you, but with 200 year old tech, they could have never learned…”
Danse heard her unasked question and shrugged. “I was helping the Sole Survivor find his son. He hacked into the Institute’s databases for the Brotherhood, and that’s where they learned…”
“That they’re racist bigots?”
Danse’s head snapped up, defense of the Brotherhood on his lips.
“One night, when I was missing my mother particularly badly, I asked my father why God would let the world end.”
“What did he tell you?”
“That sometimes the world is so corrupt, so evil, that God must flood it to start anew. I hated God for letting the war happen for a long time.”
“Do you think the Wastes are an improvement?”
“I don’t know. The evil that permeated the old world…” She shook her head. “ And when anyone stood up or questioned, they were labeled a communist and carted away. So many atrocities, and people stopped fighting them.”
Danse reached into his pack and withdrew a handful of holotapes. “Speaking of atrocities, the information on Vault 75.”
Her eyes widened. “How…”
“You wanted it, and when the Sole Survivor had to go there, I was with him.”
“You remembered.”
“I thought of you most nights. But the fight with the Institute, helping the Sole Survivor… I had to protect you, and you were safe in your Vault. Besides, if I didn’t make it home…”
“Trying to protect me even after death?”
He looked down at his hands.
Holding up the holotapes, she shook her head. “I thought you said a whole Brotherhood squadron couldn’t get into Vault 75.”
“You haven’t met Nate. He’d have leveled half the Commonwealth to get his son back. And when he finally found him…” Danse shook his head. “Still not sure what he’ll do.”
“Nate has to make his choices, just as you have to make yours.”
“I…I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’d expected Nate or Maxson…”
“To call you a communist and destroy you?”
Danse ran his hand through his hair. “It’s not like that. I’m not even human.”
“Stop.” The sharpness in the single word had him staring up at her. “Not even you are allowed to hurt the man I love.”
“You still love me? Even knowing…”
“I already told you I knew before I kissed you. Before we…” Her cheeks colored.
“I love you, Tesla, but I have nothing to offer you.”
“Do you really love me?”
He looked at her, pain etched across his face. “I don’t have the words to tell you how I feel. You are the last thing I think of at night and the first thing on my mind every morning.”
She touched his cheek. “I had been willing to give up everything to be a soldier’s wife.”
“Had been?”
“You aren’t a soldier anymore.”
He sucked in a breath.
“So come back to the Vault with me.”
“The Vault? I’m not a scientist.”
“You are an effective commander. We could use you in project control. And on the ethics committee, especially since we came into possession of Institute tech.”
His eyes widened.
“Haven’t done much with it yet, but the ethics committee will decide how we proceed.”
“Tesla…”
“And our security staff is lax. The entire Vault should be trained to shoot straight and care for a weapon.”
“Tesla…”
“And we could use help trading in Diamond City. The demand for clean water is high, and we can clean irradiated water and trade it. The guards of Diamond City have come to recognize my armor and make sure I get safely into the city, but I could use a partner.”
He framed her face in his hands and kissed her.
Her eyes fluttered closed and she melted against him, her mouth yielding to him as her arms wrapped around him.
“Are you sure you want me?”
A smile curved her lips, and her arms tightened around him. “More than anything.”
She slipped out of his arms and tugged him toward her power armor.
“I have a set of X-01 hidden away…”
“We’ll get it later. I’ll have them teleport us there if you can give them the coordinates.”
His brows knit together.
“Some of the institute technology we acquired,” Tesla said as she turned on the radio of her pipboy. “You take my armor. You’ll feel better in it, and I’ll feel better out of it.”
Danse frowned but did as she asked and stepped into the power armor. He studied the armor. It was lighter and more responsive than any he’d ever stepped into, and yet…
She smiled at him. “Stronger than anything I’ve come across, even modified. And it reflects energy weapon damage. My bots were very busy.”
“You really were preparing to leave your Vault. Your family…”
“I just hope you like life in the Vault.”
A smile curved his lips as he looked into her blue eyes. “I’ll be with you. We’ll figure it out.”
She picked up the helmet, slipped her arms around him, and with a flash of blue lightening they appeared at the relay station inside Vault 010.
He was there. And Tesla was with him. Danse let out a breath he felt like he’d been holding a lifetime. He was finally home.