Again, she pictured Magpie, one of the only two beings she’d ever trusted. Emotions swelled within her. Turning aside, Jordan willed away the pain, and concentrated. Forty-one. Sixty-four.
“What is it?” he asked roughly.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. Steeling herself, she faced him. She would not cry in front of this Keeper.
Curtis studied her with a watchful eye. “Why did your brood leave you for dead?”
She didn’t expect he would offer her any comfort, but he gave her something to focus on by sticking to the business at hand. Kept her from breaking down. With an effort, she buried her emotions. The sooner she could figure out what’d happened to her, the sooner she could be rid of him.
Quickly, she decided how much she’d share. There were ways of doling out information. She’d been doing it all her life, hadn’t she? “Abel turned them against me. Made the brood believe I was helping you, willingly, to create Similitude.”
Curtis frowned. “Why?”
She fell silent, the truth she’d known for half her life cutting her. “Because Abel has wanted me gone from the brood for a long time.”
Curtis nodded slowly. “The re-purposing of the Similitude. It made you sick at the motel, and the warehouse. You weren’t a good soldier.”
“On the contrary.” Jordan jutted her chin out. “I did everything I was told. Not that I had a choice.”
Curtis narrowed his eyes. “So, the re-purpose. It’s not working the way Abel wanted it to.” The statement came across more like a question.
In response, she kept her eyes level on his, her face expressionless. But her tone was steeped in sarcasm. “Isn’t it?”
Curtis cocked his head. “He’s been trying to kill you,” he murmured, his astonishment plain. “All along. Why would your own uncle do this?”
Uncle. Abel was no family of hers. She nearly scoffed, while at the same time noting he’d done his homework.
Biting her lip, she told herself she didn’t give a damn what Curtis thought of her. There was no turning back now. The mistrust and shame she’d fostered over two decades threatened to shred her resolve. “I’m a mongrel,” she blurted. “A half-breed. Half Betrayer. Half Keeper.”
Curtis seemed to consider it. “I’ve been with you this whole time. I’ve never detected a glimmer.”
Staggered by his seemingly easy acceptance of what she’d revealed, versus the disgust and alienation she’d endured all her life, her jaw slackened. Why did his validation mean anything? And feel so good?
Clearing her throat, she collected her thoughts. “It’s true. I’d always believed the Keeper in me to be dormant. Until now,” she said, giving voice to the idea that’d been forming since their first day in the reno.
~ ~ ~
“Until now,” Curtis repeated, his brain cranking into overdrive. Thoughts of Libby and her mixed background simmered in his brain. Then of Nick and Libby. Dev and Meda.
Everything about being here with her was diametrically opposed to what his clan stood for. She repulsed him. Fascinated him. She was his enemy. Now, maybe his ally. Did she hold the key to saving his clan?
There was no way for him to explain or to prepare Jordan—or himself—for what he was about to do. Not only did he need the element of surprise, he didn’t want to give either of them a chance to talk themselves out of it.
“Well?” She planted one hand on her hip and waved the other impatiently. “What do you think about what I said?”
“Just . . . Ah, stand still.” What she’d told him, the way he saw it, gave him an opportunity to find a definitive answer. And that was his M.O., definitive answers. So, he’d do what he had to do to help his clan.
She was filthy dirty, and he wasn’t much better, since it’d been three days since he’d seen a shower. He figured they were evenly matched there. Writing off the thudding of his heart to nerves and lack of sleep, in one lightning quick move, he hauled her against him.
Understanding flashed in her eyes and her bottom lip curled in what most certainly was defiance. And maybe fear? Before he lost his nerve, he closed his mouth over hers.
Soft. That was the first sensation that leapt into his mind. For an instant, her lips remained motionless beneath his, then yielded, pliant, shocking him. Thrilling him.
Up to now, nothing about this woman had been pliant. Skinny as she was, the subtle curves of her breasts, the angles of her hips molded themselves to his body. His breath hitched, and his erection swelled in his jeans. Thoughts of stripping her bare, wrapping her legs around his waist and burying himself inside her where they stood possessed him.
Sweet gods.
A low moan stirred in her throat, further arousing him. His mouth a breath from hers, the taste of her lingering on his lips, she clutched his wrist. And, jerking away from him, she reared back and punched him in the stomach.
Grunting, Curtis doubled over, resting his palms on his thighs, staggered. By the punch. The kiss. Her energy, jolting his system like a live wire.
But not at all in the way he’d expected.
Jordan hadn’t burned him.
The way Libby had burned Nick when he’d first kissed her.
“My gods,” he murmured. In one fell swoop, what might’ve remained of his neat and tidy world—where computers could be relied upon infallibly to return results, facts and figures—tilted on its axis.
She’d been telling him the truth. Or what she believed it to be. However, it’d changed without her knowledge.
He stared at her. His world wouldn’t be the only one to tilt. So would hers, along with all the realms as they knew them.
His head reeling, he ran an unsteady hand over the back of his neck. Tell her quick. Like ripping off a band aid. It’s the only way. “You’re right. The Keeper in you is no longer dormant.”
“I told you,” she hurled at him. “Why the hell did you kiss me?” Her hands shook even as she accused him. “You had no right.”
Was she angry? Aroused? Or both?
Inhaling deep breaths, Curtis tried desperately to return his heartrate to a steady rhythm, and his brain to normal functioning. “I know you’re aware of Libby’s abilities. From, er, listening in on Dev at the motel. At the warehouse.” He counted it a point in his favor he’d chosen his words carefully. “Intimate contact. She burned him with her touch. It’s how Nick found out she’s a—”
“Mongrel,” Jordan ground out.
She might have slapped him in the face. Black undercurrents of emotion swirled around him. He hated that word, well-acquainted with its derogatory implications. There was more, much more happening here than he could understand.
“Yes.” What he had to say would be a blow, and he knew no matter how he told her it would be devastating. Life altering. “You didn’t burn me,” he stressed tersely. “You don’t have a mixed background. Not anymore. You are a Keeper.” He enunciated each word. “Through and through.”
Chapter 10
Jordan gaped, her face bone white. “Get the hell away from me,” she sputtered, and fled into the bathroom.
If there’d been a door to slam, Curtis supposed she’d have slammed it. Since there were none in the reno yet, he listened to her pace the floor.
Growling low in his throat, Curtis did the same in the hallway.
I did what I had to do.
The gods help him, she’d responded to him. Same as he had to her.
And now he knew the truth.
He kicked the wall as realizations and possibilities flogged him, relentless. About what she was. About the woman she was. His response to her was on par with a nuclear blast. Until minutes ago, in his mind, she was a Betrayer, his clan’s enemy. Did the fact she no longer retained any dark energy make her any less of one?
So why did he feel sorry f
or her? And want to mate her?
The last thought speared him like a harpoon. His face flamed, though he was alone. Women—apparently even enemy women—rendered him awkward, nervous. Stupid. He lacked Nick’s charisma, and Dev’s bravado. Over the years he’d tried to emulate both and failed miserably. He was just Curtis, a blend of Keeper and computer geek.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he forced himself to focus. I’m a Keeper, carrying out a Compulsion. If she was able to tolerate his Vitality energy, and the two conflicting parts of her had somehow meshed or morphed, there was no reason for them to remain at the reno.
She wasn’t going to die, as he’d originally thought.
Never had he needed his clan more. Along with the network, and answers. And a stiff drink.
His heart hammered double-time. For he’d learned a truth, beyond her metamorphosis.
Releasing a shuddering breath, he gathered his notes and laptop. Clung to them like a drowning man might a lifeboat. Right now, I have to stick to what I know. Facts.
Something essential had changed. She existed without the dark energy she’d needed all her life. How?
Mentally, Curtis sorted through what he knew of Libby and Meda, his brothers’ mates. Each defied the logic that played such a big part in his life, his work. Libby had a mixed background, Meda did not. Each had psychic, human abilities he believed enabled them to coexist with the clan. Libby, through her unique sense of smell. Meda, through her uncanny intuitions based on touch.
Thoughts churned in his mind like stormy seas. Was there something he’d learned about the women that could help him now?
So many questions, but a single answer. And it sure as hell wasn’t the one he wanted.
Damn the Watchers and their mysterious ways.
Needing something to ease his nervous energy as well as the charged silence between them, Curtis stalked into what would be the kitchen and grabbed a roll of paper towels. When he peered around the corner of the bathroom, she lanced him with an icy stare.
“There was no good or easy way to tell you.” He paused, wanting to offer an apology, comfort, something. He knew she’d sooner deck him again. “Thought you might want to wash your face.” He held out the roll. “There’s only a sink. No tub yet. But there’s running water.”
If her eyes could’ve shot daggers, he’d have been bleeding.
“Fine.” She snatched the roll from him and stabbed a finger in the direction of the doorway. “Now get out.”
Ignoring her, he stayed where he was and rocked on his heels, considering. What must she be feeling right now? Terror? Disbelief?
“I wonder,” he mused softly. “You’re now a . . . Keeper. Is that what the Compulsion is about? If it is, how can this help our clan?” Not expecting an answer, he continued. “I know what I’ve told you is a lot to process. To believe. We have to move forward. The only way we’re going to figure this out is if we stick together. So like it or not, that’s what we’re going to do. At least for the next little while.”
She glared. “Is that right?”
“Yep. Besides, we’ve got a lot to discuss before we leave.”
“To go where?”
Curtis braced himself for a fight. “The network.”
~ ~ ~
“The hell we are,” Jordan snarled. She whipped around and wrenched on the sink’s faucet, splashing cold water on her face.
Years of the only life she’d ever known pummeled her. She’d suspected the Keeper in her was no longer dormant, which was confounding enough. But to be told she was all Keeper? That she no longer harbored the dark energy which made her a Betrayer? And more, she was no longer a mongrel?
Despised as her heredity was—by almost everyone she’d ever known—at least it was familiar. Her essence and her identity—abruptly eviscerated—was all her reeling mind could process. Now this Keeper was telling her they were going to the network, a place she’d been taught to fear all her life.
Jordan planted a hand on either side of the sink’s cool ceramic, her head bowed as stark terror ripped through her. And incredibly, another wave of the blinding arousal he’d unleashed in her. She locked her knees in place to keep them from buckling.
Minutes ago, her body had betrayed her in Curtis’ arms. She refused to allow that to happen again. Even though she’d punched him, he wasn’t an idiot. He’d have sensed her reaction, could view it as a weakness, a weapon to be used against her. He’d kissed her only to determine if she’d been lying about what she was.
Though his desire had also been evident. Her skin heated, remembering his mouth on hers, tender, needy. No matter how mind blowing that brief, intimate contact had been, she had to forget it. Her life, such as it was, simply didn’t leave room for physical pleasure or romantic entanglements of any kind. She gulped, ordering herself to forget the way his body and all its solid warmth had both thrilled and sheltered her.
Pushing off the sink, she tore a paper towel from the roll and hastily wiped her face. “How can you even think of taking me to your network? Where the clan’s energy is at its most powerful? There’s a war going on! It’s a certain death sentence for a B—” She stopped herself, mid-sentence. “Only I’m not a Betrayer any more. Or a mongrel. Or so you say,” she muttered, glaring.
It was enough to drive anyone crazy. But hadn’t she known it to be true, or at least she was vastly different, even before he’d kissed her? Still . . .
“I do feel different. Better than I have in years. I don’t feel that gnawing void, when I’m without dark energy. But I’m still not sure I trust it. How can I be a Keeper? It would mean Vitality energy is sustaining me. Yours.” She gestured to the stone he wore around his neck. “I’ve never known anything like this to happen, in the history of the broods or clans.”
Curtis cracked his neck several times. “That makes two of us.”
“How is it possible? And how can I trust it? I know about the power of intimate energy. But before I’ll gamble with my life, I want more evidence than what one kiss allegedly determined.” She lifted a hand to her face, wondering if her skin’s temperature matched the heat rising inside her. “The absence of clashing energies. The absence of a burn.”
Wadding the used paper towel into a ball, she strode into the living room. The bathroom was too damned small with him in it. Any room would be.
He followed, hard on her heels. “I’m just as baffled.”
There was nowhere to sit except on the floor, so she remained standing. “Yeah, but it’s not your life getting the overhaul.”
“You couldn’t be more wrong,” he returned. “As you say, is it my energy sustaining you? My energy in particular that’s caused this transformation, and healed you? Or can all Keepers do this? Is this type of transformation possible only for those with a mixed background, or full-blooded Betrayers too?”
He paced. “What if others in the brood wanted to do this? Are you an isolated case? Or is it possible to do this again?”
She could almost hear the gears turning in his mind. “I don’t know,” she said haltingly, thinking of others in her brood who secretly longed for a way out. Was it possible? Or had the intimate energy they’d shared expedited it? The gods help them both.
“You are a living, breathing miracle. Think of the possibilities. This changes everything.”
“This does change everything. But you’re going too fast,” she cried.
“Maybe I am. I don’t see there’s any other way.”
Her gaze landed on the bed of drop cloths where she’d existed for three days. He was right. She said nothing for a moment, desperately trying to collect her thoughts. “Have you considered if it’s possible to transform me, it might be possible to transform a Keeper into a Betrayer?”
He scuffed the floor with one of his sneakers, and she could tell she’
d thrown him. “Under normal circumstances, a Betrayer wouldn’t be able to get near enough to a Keeper’s Vitality to even attempt it. But we haven’t had a whole lot of normal lately. So, yes, I’d have to say it’s a possibility. Right now, I want to focus on what’s happened to you. Things are clearly different,” he stressed. “You’re tolerating my energy. And you didn’t burn me.”
“That’s true,” she said. “But how different am I? You’re one Keeper. And you’ve got it dialed down. Maybe it’s why I didn’t burn you.”
“Maybe. I don’t think so, but as you point out, what’s happening to you is unprecedented.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Proximity,” he mumbled. “Energy, its transmission, its detection, often has to do with proximity. It’s not perfect. I’ve been at less than my full level of Vitality energy for days. We both know I can’t stay like that long term. We can’t leave until we know you can tolerate being around me, at my full level. You’ve made a remarkable recovery. You’re handling it. Perhaps you’ve even undergone a complete metamorphosis. I see no reason why it won’t work. We still go slow.”
He consulted his watch. “It’s about nine-thirty now. That gives us almost ten hours until it’s dark. I need to increase my energy gradually, test my theory. Adjust accordingly.”
“Agreed,” she muttered, but part of her wanted to balk at his plan. Test his theory? Adjust accordingly? Slim assurances his full-on Vitality energy wouldn’t kill her. Another part of her dared him to bring on the challenge. Was it self-destructive? Or a desperate longing to know, once and for all, if she truly would be able to survive?
Her throat tightened. Only days ago, she’d been ready to embrace death. Now, everything had changed, in ways she couldn’t even begin to fathom.
Along with an idea that’d taken firm root.
“Trust me, this isn’t my preferred method of doing things,” he was saying. “I’d much rather be more scientific. Consider all the variables. For example, what physical attributes factor in? Is it possible your age, your weight, contribute? What level of dark energy sustained you when we first arrived here? Unfortunately, I don’t have all the sophisticated equipment I have at the network. Even if I did, I’m not sure I’d know how to quantify what’s happening to you. Like we said, we don’t have a precedent to follow. Libby’s experience is the only thing I have to compare it to, and even that’s not the same, because she remains Keeper, Betrayer and human. But she’s able to tolerate the Vitality energy, even thrive on it.”
The Betrayer (Crossing Realms Series Book 3) Page 5
