"What do you mean, Remy?"
"What will be your defining moment?"
The most morbid conversations always seemed to take place at two in the morning over bitter, dark coffee and apple pie. Creamer and sugar were for wimps, and Jeremy Sloane was assuredly not a wimp, nor did she really like apple pie. They just seemed to go well together, and there was something soulful about such a normal, mundane thing. Her most trusted friend was Reuben Addams, a Fear hunter in her own division. He was there for her when she was plagued by nightmares, when she was awake in the middle of the night and needed someone to talk to. The lumbering giant of a man tolerated her, answering her strange questions with his natural good humor.
"Th' birth of my daughter."
"Not her death?"
"Her death didn' define me, darlin'. Her birth shaped me into a different man."
- - - - - - - - - -
The sheets were cool against her nude skin. The body of the woman next to her was hot in comparison. If it could be said that Jeremy had one weakness, it would be Em. Em with her rich brown hair that forever reminded Remy of melted chocolate waterfalls, like those chintzy fondue fountains. Remy had always loved Em's hair. Remy had always loved Em's everything; her languid eyes, those impudent red lips, the way she seemed to embrace everything that life had to offer. And yet, Em was never completely Remy's, and after every goodbye Remy promised herself that she wouldn't do it again. She couldn't take another emotional beating. It hurt to see Em with the group of men she always had swarming around her. Then again, how could Remy blame them? Em was a butterfly -- beautiful and deceptively delicate -- and the woman had a way of spreading smiles wherever she went. Remy wasn't selfish enough to keep Em all to herself. These stolen moments were almost enough. Almost. There were times that the hurt and bitterness muddled their way through, unwanted and unforgiving. Remy hated herself for feeling that way.
"Do you have any regrets?"
Thickly lashed lids blinked twice in thought before Em answered.
"Sometimes. I think it's normal to have regrets. You just can't let them eat you alive, you know?"
"It's not always that simple, Em."
"It's as simple as you make it, Remy. We've all done things in the past that we aren't proud of. You aren't the only one who has regrets, you know."
"I didn't mean it that way."
"You only have one life. Why waste it wallowing in the what if's and what might have been's?"
Em stretched in the bed, all silken skin and smooth tone muscle. Unabashed in her nakedness. Remy took a long moment to admire the curves and dips of the other woman's body before she lifted dark eyes to linger on Em's lips.
"You just don't understand."
"I think you're the one who doesn't understand. It doesn't matter right now. Do you really want to waste more time talking?"
Remy didn't speak another word. All she had were these meager, stolen moments.
After all, it was up to them to save the world, wasn't it?
- - - - - - - - - -
Jeremy Sloane, known to everyone as a gruff and oftentimes cranky Sun Hunter, died on a cold December morning. Or was it January? There was no way to tell. Her body, ripped to shreds by the beasts that had lurked in the shadows, came to its final resting place in the stagnant half-frozen water of a forgotten subway tunnel.
What was Remy's defining moment?
The same that it had always been. That dark, cold February morning when she fell asleep at the wheel and inadvertently took the lives of two people, forever altering the lives of two others. A mother and her son. A father and his daughter. It wasn't until after the accident that Remy was haunted by visions of blood-stained faces, dead bodies lying still in the middle of the stark, cold night. Flashes of blue and red, white sheets being pulled over motionless shapes. The sharp, acrid taste of her own blood on her tongue. The white-hot pain that arced throughout her entire body. The heart-wrenching sobs of a broken family. The unforgiving, chilly embrace of death.
In that split second everything changed. This was Jeremy Sloane's defining moment.
Regrets? Yeah, she had a few.
"You only have one life."
Em.
"Why waste it wallowing in the what if's and what might have been's?"
