He had been trained by his creators to kill. He now used that training to make certain that those who created them could never repeat the horrors of the past. At least, not for long. Until Grace, he had never considered how the non-Breed population of the world would view this, how they would view him.
He stood beside the lake outside the cabin, as the sun rose high in the sky, resting on his heels, as he looked out over the water and frowned at the thought.
The blood of monsters shouldn't stain a man's soul. He had saved countless lives, both Breed and non-Breed alike, by the actions he had taken, and he had never given it much thought, until now. He marked the kills within the smoke circle and gave their souls up to a higher being to judge. He didn't consider himself judge and jury. He was merely the means to stop the atrocities they committed. Or was he just making excuses for himself?
Bending his head, he picked up a smooth rock from the sandy ground and rubbed his thumb over it, frowning as his thoughts held him captive.
He considered himself neither a good man, nor a bad man, but he was questioning his own actions now, because of one small woman. She saw blood on his hands, whereas he saw peace from the fact that one less monster existed. She saw an injustice, where he saw justice. And he now found himself in conflict with his very beliefs and his perceived place in the world.
He was a Breed. There was no changing that, and he had just as much right to exist in this world as any other creature did. He had the right to laughter, the right to dream, and the right to love. But did he have the right to kill?
A part of him howled yes . A part of him questioned that belief. Could he ever do his job again, now that he had seen the look of horror and betrayal in Grace's eyes?
And he knew he wouldn't. Whether she accepted the mating between them or left at the end of the week to resume her life alone, Matthias knew that this part of his life was over. The smoke assassin would exist no more. He would drift out of men's minds with the same ease that he had slipped into their most secured areas and destroyed the monsters. All because of a woman. His lips quirked at the though of that woman.
She was the softest creature on the face of the earth, as far as he was concerned. Gently rounded and tender of flesh as well as emotions. Stubborn. He could see the stubbornness in the sharply rounded chin, but he saw her compassion in her pert little nose and rosebud lips. Her gray eyes were always soft, even when she was angry, and when she was aroused, they were like a storm. Dark, shifting with color, and firing with hunger.
She moved him. She made him wish for things he had never believed he would want. Made him dream of things he had never believed he would dream of. Things like a home, perhaps children, but at the very least, her soft smile filling his heart before he slept each night, the warmth of her body curled against his. He wanted to protect her, he wanted to laugh with her, as he had done before she had seen him take a life. She had kept a smile on his face with her gentle teasing and her determination to make certain he knew what the finer things in life were.
Such as a pillow fight. She had whacked him over the head with a couch pillow one evening in her apartment and informed him that even Breeds needed to learn the rules of a pillow fight. He had nearly kissed her that night. She had dusted him in the pillow fight, but he had retaliated by wrestling her to the floor and stealing her pillow.
He smiled at the memory. Her need for the kiss had filled the air, and only the thought of what would come had kept him in control.
She needed the choice. He wouldn't surprise her with it, he wasn't going to force it on her. She had cooked him dinner many nights then made him help her wash the dishes rather than using the dishwasher. Another evening she had made him help her cook. He doubted she would repeat that exercise very soon. They had ended up eating from room service, but they had laughed. They had taken long walks through central park, holding hands.
He had gone shoe shopping with her. She had helped him pick out a new pair of boots. He'd talked her into a leather miniskirt, she'd made him buy a pair of jeans, and then they wore their new clothes in the privacy of her apartment, as they ate popcorn and watched a comedy movie she'd been wanting to see. She could bust his ass playing poker, but he had her on Monopoly. They had fit. Despite the sexual tension that had steadily grown between them, there had been something about being with her that fit him, all the way to his soul.
And he couldn't help but think that finally he belonged to someone. Breeds weren't born, they were created. They belonged to the labs. They were no more than expensive tools and experiments, until their escapes. After that, they belonged to no one. They were without family, in many cases they were without friends. They were part of the pack they had trained in, but true belonging went deeper. It went to the soul. And his soul belonged to Grace. But he was beginning to realize that perhaps Grace really didn't want to belong to him. He stared at the rock in his hand, then, feeling the bite of that knowledge as it tore at his heart. Walking away from her would destroy him. It would mean that there truly was no place in the world that he would fit, and he didn't want that to be true.
He had fought for ten years to make the world safe for Breed mates. With each year, the knowledge of the mating might not be publicized, but the knowledge of the danger to them was. The world was standing behind them, and in several cases where Breed mates would have been kidnapped, regular citizen's had raised the alarm.
The Council Directorate was finding it harder with each successive year to strike against known, registered Breeds. They were too well known in the communities they had come into. They were well liked and considered members of the community. Even the pure blood societies were reportedly finding it harder to gain members outside the fanatical few.
There was still a long road to travel in making peace with society at large. And there were still too many Breeds dying needlessly. But inroads were being made.
Now, if only Matthias could make his own inroads.
Straightening, he turned his head to the cabin, eyes narrowing, as Grace stepped out onto the porch. She hadn't tried to run yet, and he had given her every chance to do just that. She stood just outside the door, staring at him across the clearing. She wore a stretchy, snug top with thin straps and a pair of cutoff jeans. Her silky hair fell around her face to her shoulders in several natural shades of blonde. Even from here he could see the somber reflection in her soft eyes. Breakfast and lunch had been so silent between them that it weighed in the air like a heavy fog. He had left the cabin to escape it, to escape the pain he knew he was causing her. Matthias felt his body tighten as she stepped from the porch and moved down the steps before coming toward him. Her steps were slow, the air of reluctance that hovered around her had his teeth clenching. He dropped the rock he held back to the ground, shoved his hands in his pockets, and waited for her. He felt as though he had waited for her all his life, only to watch her slip from his life once he found her.