The Megiddo Mark, Part 1 by Mackenzie Lucas Page A

price.
    “It’s almost as gorgeous as you,” he whispered in her ear. He caressed her throat, trailing his fingers down her shoulders and arms before he clasped her hand again to lead her away. They walked along the water. Pedestrian traffic thinned as midnight approached. The London Eye loomed ahead, a blue neon glow a short distance away.
    He backed her up to one of the iron lampposts, a remnant from Victorian London now rewired with electricity. “So, my first serious question–”
    “ –ah, ah, ah. We agreed midnight.” She pointed to Big Ben. Ten minutes to the hour. She had wondered at the light banter they’d fallen into since she had laid down the ground rules. Whether he claimed to or not, Cullen Wade played by the rules.
    “Is there a significant other? A man in your life?” He’d pressed his hips against her abdomen, gently pinning her to the black painted post. A large glass globe glimmered several feet above them. When he moved close, the overhead light cast his face into shadow.
    It wasn’t the question she’d expected. She lifted her left hand and wiggled her fingers to show him her ring finger. “Nope. No current attachments and never been married.” She shifted her hips. He growled low in his throat. She grinned at him and shifted again. “How about you?” She rested her hand, the one with the tattoo, against his chest.
    “Not yet.” He shook his head, his eyes suddenly serious. She could tell he wanted to say more. Yet he hesitated. She stroked his chest, her fingers caressing his sculpted pectorals through the silk sweater.
    “Ever want to be married?”
    “I’m not sure,” he said. “Family history keeps me looking over my shoulder. Not sure I want to perpetuate the genes.”
    “I don’t think I understand.” She could guess from what Joshua had told her that Cullen referred to his mother’s suicide. She wouldn’t. Not yet. He’d have to spell it out for her. One word at a time. She wouldn’t let him off the hook.
    “My mother fell from a cliff in Cornwall.”
    “Yes. I’m sorry. I did know. My mother spoke of her often. But what does your mother’s death have to do with your future?”
    “A great deal, I fear.”
    “How so?”
    He pulled away, stepped to the railing that overlooked the Thames. Cool air rushed in to touch her skin where he’d stood a moment before. She followed him. Water glistened black, ominous and sparkling in the flickering light. He rested against the gray metal bar, still not looking at her.
    “What you may not know is that she jumped from a cliff in Cornwall. I don’t know what happened. I don’t know why she went over the edge that day. And until I do, I won’t marry or bring a child into this world. I can’t trust myself until I know the truth. If my mother struggled with depression or something worse, I won’t chance passing that on. No one deserves that sentence. I won’t strap a wife with that millstone.”
    “I’m sorry,” she said. He turned to look at her. “That’s a heavy burden to bear.”
    “I keep thinking the pain will disappear one day. But nothing I say or do changes the past. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
    “No, you’re right. How old were you when she died?”
    “Five.”
    “That’s awfully young to lose your mother in such a traumatic way. Do you struggle with depression?”
    “No.”
    “Then why assume you’d pass mental illness on to your children?”
    “I won’t take the risk.”
    “Do you think that’s what she’d want? To know you walked through life alone? That you ran scared anytime you got close to someone because you were afraid of who you might become?” Malena leaned into Cullen. Her bare arm brushed his. They peered into the depths of the blackened soul of London –the Thames.
    “She gave up all rights concerning me when she jumped from that cliff.” He looked at her. “Now I’ve shared my secret fear. What scares you?”
    “Hospitals.”
    “Hospitals?”
    “Yep. Hospitals,