Chapter 16
Minutes later, she was stroking my cheek to wake me. "Time for school," she said.
Out of disoriented habit, I obliged and sat up. "How was work?" I yawned.
"Another case," she muttered. She straightened, forced a smile, and patted my leg. "Get dressed. I'll make you pancakes."
With more mental fortitude than available to me at that moment, I lumbered to the washroom and cleaned up. It was going to be a long day. My arm felt pushed just enduring the gyrations of teeth brushing. I nearly fell asleep again on the toilet.
I should probably stay home and have my mother call the school. I yawned so large my mouth was stretched to the limit and it was still not enough. I just needed sleep. But if I didn't go to school, Bran and Michael would wonder why. Even if I could keep from my mother why I had been up all night, there was no way Bran would be convinced by anything but the truth.
And what exactly would I tell him? That the pursuer from our past had found me again? He had promised to protect me then. Even after all this time, he seemed to have taken the job seriously. He had said back then he would ask for immortality if he had to and hadn't he held true to his word? Over a thousand years no less?
And what if it wasn't some mysterious pursuer? I had no idea who the man could have been. Maybe he had simply gotten the wrong house. The more I thought about it, the more it felt like saying anything at all was stupid, yet not saying anything made me feel vulnerable.
Maybe I really was in the thick of teenage insanity. I had already become obsessive about a boy. Comforting myself with his true identity was a failure because I knew I had been obsessed with him even before any of our past had come to light. Being fated wasn't an excuse for lack of sense. As if obsession weren't enough, now I was developing paranoia as well. I needed therapy.
I dressed and walked to the kitchen. My mother flipped a pancake before moving to the coffee maker to scoop the grounds into the filter. The smell of sweet butter teased my taste buds while simultaneously making my stomach churn. Riley had flopped down by his bowl. His eyebrows see-sawed with every tiny movement from my mother. She obviously hadn't fed him yet.
"Can you make me a cup too?" I yawned as I sat down at the table.
My mother looked at me with a raised brow.
"Didn't sleep much," I explained.
She added a few extra scoops of her spoon before filling the pot with water. "You stay up too late with the boys?" she asked.
"They left early but I got woken up." A thought had occurred to me, one that would both complicate matters and simplify them at the same time.
"Yes?" She replied as she flicked on the coffee maker and returned to the pan to remove a golden pancake. She picked up a plate that already had three pancakes on it and added the latest one to the pile.
"What did dad look like?"
The plate hit the counter with a loud clunk. Her fingers rested limply against the rim. "Why do you ask?" She didn't look at me. She was staring at the pancakes.
"I was just wondering if you ever thought it possible he would try stopping by." I was trying to sound innocent but not even an Oscar winner could make this topic seem nonchalant.
She pushed the plate further back on the counter before turning to face me. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared. I could not tell if she was angry, concerned, or both.
"I would never have thought he would," she said, "Did he?"
I shrugged. "I don't know."
That same brow went a little higher. I looked away.
"After Bran and Michael left last night, someone knocked on the door. I didn't feel safe enough to open it so I stayed quiet. I looked through the drapes when he was walking away. He was tall with dark hair and looked only a little older than you are." I sighed. "It was dark though, I could be wrong about his age. He drove away and didn't come back."
"Not him," she said with a smile and finally looking at me. "Unless he's dyed his remaining hair and gotten a rug. Last I heard, he was fat and balding and living in Arizona. But your description does sound very similar to Alistair." She turned back to the pan to add another scoop of batter, which gave a snap and a sizzle as it hit the pan.
I had completely forgotten about her friend coming to visit. I was both relieved and embarrassed. If I had, I wouldn't have had to bring up the topic of my father. "A little late for friends to be stopping by," I muttered. "Maybe ask him to keep normal hours next time you see him."
She chuckled. "He doesn't have normal hours. He travels too much. It probably didn't occur to him how late it was. Though I thought he knew I was at work." She shrugged. "Maybe it wasn't even him. It might have been someone who just got the wrong house." She flipped the pancake. "I wouldn't worry about it, dear. It's not like he tried to break in or anything, right?"
I nodded.
She gave one firm nod in agreement. "If we don't' see him again, we'll chalk it up to the house version of a wrong number. If it was Alistair, I'll remind him most of us still use clocks."
I muttered an incoherent sound of agreement but until I knew for sure who it was, I couldn't relax. My mother didn't know the possibilities of what could be lurking in the dark like I did.
When I opened the door for Bran that morning, he was looking over his shoulder. He then looked me up and down as I greeted him. It was not a flirting gesture. There was something frantic about it, like he was confirming I was intact.
He said nothing to indicate the cause of his agitation. He simply smiled and kissed me on the cheek and even suggested dinner plans for that night as we walked to the car. Talking with my mother had sapped what little strength I had had so I simply agreed to everything, though I could not entirely remember what things I had agreed to. Was invading Spain one of them?
As we drove to school, I turned down my window and breathed in the warm air. There wasn't a cloud to be seen and the sun had already done a spectacular job of returning warmth to us unfortunate winter folk. Almost all the morning dew had disappeared. If I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend it was the thick of summer.
The warmth cleansed me of my worries, though it also encouraged sleep. I could feel my head start to loll to the side when Bran put the car into park. I straightened and rubbed my face. It didn't help. I shouldn't have been so surprised. Even the coffee hadn't made a dent.
"You alright?" He asked. "You look like you've been up all night."
I nodded but couldn't find the strength to move my lips. This suited me just fine. It meant I couldn't explain even if I wanted to, which helped ease the guilt.
He linked arms with me when he opened my door. I suspected he was trying to be discrete about helping me stay upright as we made our way to home room and sat down. The other students filtered in; Amanda and Samantha glared at me as they took their seats. They had likely spent the entire previous evening developing some nasty rumour to spread about me.
I was too tired to care as much about this as would likely be wise. No, I needn't be worried. They were just ninnies and Bran would never stand for my public humiliation.
Bran reached across the aisle and took my hand in his. He stroked it with his thumb absentmindedly as we waited for Mr. Dunn to come in. I loved his touch, even the torture and the threats it brought. It felt right. Why had I ever held back from him?
Bran froze. I looked at him but his eyes were locked upon the man who had just walked in.
When I saw him. I froze. He was middle-aged with short dark hair. He looked like he could do with a bit more nourishment. He also looked very much like the man who had banged on my front door in the middle of the night. He walked to the desk and laid a weathered satchel on top.
"Mr. Dunn has had to take some time off for medical leave," he said as he began to unpack papers and books from the satchel. "I will be taking his place for the foreseeable future." He set a small stack of books on the desk and faced us. "I am Mr. Roghan."
Bran's hand squeezed mine, almost painfully. I looked at this new tea
cher and back at Bran. My mother's lack of concern must have been premature. Was this really the one I had to fear? I had rather hoped it had been my mother's friend at the door.
Mr. Roghan began to take attendance. With each entry, he read the name and then stared at the student in question as if memorizing their face. When he called mine, he looked me right in the eye. I swallowed. Out of habit, I averted my gaze and tried to pull my head back into my neck, failing as usual. Why was he looking at me?
He moved to the next name and repeated the procedure. I guess it had just felt longer when he was looking at me than when he was looking at the others. They probably felt the same way but Bran's death grip on my hand was too worrying.
When he called Bran's name and looked, his jaw tensed. I looked at Bran. His jaw was tense too. "Present," Bran said through gritted teeth.
Mr. Roghan continued to the end of the list with Spencer White. After the announcements regarding prom and something about track practice, we were freed.
"What was all that about?" I asked as we headed to biology.
Bran was looking over his shoulder back at the classroom. He absentmindedly wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Uh, nothing," he said.
"Liar."
"Fine," he admitted. "I don't like that guy. He seems like a creeper."
His description recalled a conversation I had had with Michael on Bran's first day. "So did you at first," I admitted.
He snapped his gaze to me. "I did?"
I shrugged. "Well, you did seem to stare at me that first day, even more than Mr. Roghan did. I thought you were a stalker or something."
He looked ahead and smiled. "What can I say? I was put under the spell of your beauty."
"Ha!"
"No, ha," he scolded, booping my nose with his finger. "It's the truth."
"Seriously, Bran, you're problem with Mr. Roghan seems like a pretty big deal. I've never seen you so agitated."
"I just know the type," he said. "I'll bet you anything he sleeps with his students. I don't like him and I don't want him getting near you."
I raised a brow. "Getting a little possessive aren't we?"
He shook his head as if to clear it. "Sorry. I just know what can happen with guys like that. I had some problems back in Scotland with his type. Just try to stay away from him, alright?"
"That will be a little hard given that he's a teacher," I reasoned.
"Well, hopefully he won't be staying long."
"Bran... I know what you are getting at when you mention his type back in Scotland so tell me the truth, do I need to be worried?"
He looked down at me. Concern creased his brow.
"He came by my house last night after you left," I explained.
I could have sworn he growled, "I heard," but it was so quiet, I wasn't sure. "Why didn't you tell me about it?" he asked.
I shrugged. "Mostly too tired and my mother seemed to think it might have been her friend Alistair looking for her. But you've got a problem with this guy and given your... particular traits and past, I think it important to know why. I won't accept some trivial answer."
"Strange men coming to your door in the middle of the night is not trivial. No matter who they are. It doesn't mean I have a history with the guy. You're reading too much into it." His grip around my shoulders tightened as he looked down at me. "Promise me you will call me right away if it happens again. I'll be there as fast as I can."
I flashed him an impish grin. "Even at two in the morning?"
"Especially if it's two in the morning," he declared with a nod.
"I'm definitely not reading too much into it," I retorted. One way or another I would get it out of him but, for now, mundaness called.
The biology lab reeked even from the hall. A previous class must have performed a dissection because the rancid smell permeated the entire corridor.
Bran left me with a kiss on the cheek. I hesitated going inside and instead watched him as he turned the corner at the end of the hall.
I considered what I had seen, what I had read, and what little fragments I had remembered. Bran was too on edge about Mr. Roghan for him to be anyone else but the pursuer in my vision. Bran must have been getting tired of protecting me from this madman all these years. There had to be a way to stop him for good. I considered: if he was so much of a threat, why hadn't he tried anything? He had knocked on my door and calmly walked away.
A flailing arm caught my attention. Michael was waving at me with a furrowed brow; Maria sulking by his side. "You spaced out or something?" He asked as I walked up and slid into a seat at the lab table next to them.
"Guess so," I said. I was trying to ignore the smell but it was the kind that penetrated the nostrils like an invading army.
Michael appeared unaffected. In fact, he was nearly bouncing in his seat. He looked at Maria before looking back at me. "So, are you busy tonight?" he asked. Nothing of his demeanour supported the nonchalance he was trying to convey.
I eyed him for a moment. "Depends on what you're about to rope me into." I took the lead of several others in the class and pulled the collar of my t-shirt over my nose.
He flashed his crooked smile but it faded almost immediately when he looked back at Maria. He coughed to clear his throat. "Well," he began. It was never good when he began with a well. The fact that he was so eager to get this out that he seemed to be the only one oblivious to the stench also did not bode well for me.
"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it," I growled.
"Have a dress for prom yet?" he asked.
I dropped my head on my desk. He was a jerk for reminding me of that and an even bigger jerk for obviously devising some nefarious scheme involving it. "Can't I just wear my clothes from last year's comicon?"
"While your Princess Peach is a knockout, gaming geek probably isn't the effect you're going for and I've seen your wardrobe. You're pushing the envelope today."
"Shut up!" Even as I rebuked him, I looked down at the plain blue t-shirt and jeans I had thrown on. Did he have to be right about everything? "I was so much happier when we weren't speaking."
He leaned back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head. "Nah, you were miserable."
"You're underestimating the value of Bran's company," I muttered back.
His eyebrows shot up. "What exactly do you two get up to without me?" There was a hint of laughter in the question.
"None of your business," I shot back as I opened my text book and tried to concentrate on the first paragraph discussing recessive genes.
"Sounds pretty sexy." If he were any more gleeful, he'd be dancing between the lab tables. I refused to respond. He was undeterred by my uncooperative demeanour. "Maria was telling me she still hasn't found the right shoes for her prom dress. I told her you hadn't found your dress at all yet and could probably use some help."
Maria wasn't looking at me. Did Michael honestly think shopping would make Maria and I friends? He was proof that love wasn't just blind but stupid too.
"I wouldn't be much help to her," I reasoned. "Probably just be a burden really. I don't know what I'm doing."
"Exactly," he said. "And don't keep putting this off. I'm your friend but I don't need some girl coming to my place to cry about her clothing crisis."
I grunted. Like I would ever go to him with issues like that. I swallowed. I hadn't even told him the truth about Bran yet.
"Come on, Lu. You want to impress Bran right?"
I didn't need to impress Bran—I dropped my forehead back onto the lab table—and yet I wanted to. I very very much wanted to feel like a woman worth becoming an immortal slave for. "Fine," I groaned.
Michael slapped the desk. "Perfect. You can head over to the mall with Maria right after school."
I noticed he didn't mention anything about joining us. Traitor. I looked up at Maria. "I'm really, really sorry about this," I said.
She twitched her shoulders in what I took to be a shrug. It would only be a few hours. I could survi
ve it. Maybe.
Bran seemed as skeptical as I was when I met up with him at my locker before Physics. He raised a brow when I told him about shopping with Maria. The small gesture put me on the defensive.
"Well, I have to find something," I said. "I don't exactly have the right wardrobe for a dance. It's never come up before."
The other brow joined the first. "You've never been to a dance?"
"You hadn't figured that out?" I asked as I handed him my text book to hold while I searched for my notebook. "Why would I? No one has ever asked before and I'm a complete embarrassment in public."
"I could join you," he suggested as if that were not the most ridiculous thing he had ever said to me.
I snorted. "No way. You are not coming. I would like to endure this embarrassment without having someone with your particular length of memory witness it. Besides, then I can't surprise you with what I find."
He grunted but the edges of his mouth twitched upward. "Well, then how about I pick you up after so we can still go to dinner?"
We'd never had an official dinner date before and I had only a vague recollection of agreeing to one that morning. I smiled. "That sounds wonderful." Time alone with him would be just what I needed after enduring Maria's company in a mall.
When we entered the cafeteria at lunch, Bran turned around immediately. He muttered something about not being hungry and wanting to walk instead. Even as I agreed, I looked around his shoulder to see Mr. Roghan standing across the room. He was watching us.
"Bran," I said quietly. "You don't want me to be worried but you obviously are. Why? If he's a threat, wouldn't he have done something already? I mean, I was completely alone last night and he just drove away."
Bran sped up and I was forced to jog to keep up with him. I didn't want us being overheard, so I let him stay quiet. The moment we were alone on the track, I laid it out. "He's the one who pulled us apart to begin with, isn't he? I saw it. The stone showed me."
Our sneakers thumped on the pavement, crunching as we passed over random bits of gravel. The heat spoke of July, not the end of March.
He looked down at me. "In a way, I wish that were true," he said with a sigh.
"It has to be true," I countered. "You promised to protect me. You said you would become immortal if necessary to keep him from getting to me and I begged you not to give so much for me because of how much I love you. I saw it... I lived it. When I see how you look at each other, I know its him."
His jaw tensed as I spoke. Having Roghan return must have been too much for him after so many centuries of trying to fight and outwit him. "Roghan has no desire to hurt you," he admitted. "But his desire to rid of the world of me is stronger than his care for you. I don't want him near you."
"Unfortunately, he's our teacher now," I pointed out.
He nodded. "With any luck, that won't be for long."
I said nothing. I knew the last statement came from the warrior. That still scared me. We walked the rest of lunch in silence.
After school, Michael said a quick good-bye at my locker before dragging Bran off with him, leaving Maria and I to fend for ourselves. He truly was the betrayer. I stared down the hall after him as I tried to figure out how suddenly I had found myself in Hell. I hadn't even gotten to talk to Bran.
With a sigh, I turned to Maria. "Sorry, about this. I know Michael roped you into it." My apology felt worthless but I didn't want her to think I had plotted with him.
She blinked back at me and shook her head. "No, he didn't."
Before I could say anything, Samantha and Amanda walked by. "Hi, Maria," Amanda said more sweetly than I had ever had her speak to me.
Maria's brow furrowed. "Hi," she muttered.
"The things some people do for love," Samantha said with a roll of her eyes.
"Let's get going," Maria suggested, turning back to me, though still glancing briefly at Samantha and Amanda as we walked away.
I followed her from the school and through the parking lot to a champagne jaguar, her car. I always kept forgetting exactly how rich her family was. When we were pulling out of the parking lot, she spoke. Her voice was quiet and seemed fleeting seeing as I almost never heard her speak.
"I've been wanting to talk to you for a while," she said.
"If you're looking for dirt on Michael, there really isn't any," I said, trying to sound like I was kidding.
She didn't laugh. "I could never get the nerve," she continued as if I hadn't spoken.
I blinked back at her. "Nerve? Why would you need nerve?"
She glanced over at me with wide eyes. "Because you're you!"
I was still not getting something but her comment was making me feel tense and hot. "I'm me? Yup, I am. Is there a problem with that? Like your friends who said hello right before we left?"
Her brow furrowed again. "What friends?"
"Amanda and Samantha," I shot at her.
She snorted. "They are not my friends. That's the first time they've spoken to me."
So they had just been trying to get a dig in but I was still confused. "Do you have a problem with me?" I asked.
"No!" Maria insisted, then she bit her lip. "Well, not directly."
I rubbed the bridge of my nose. I was getting a headache. "I really don't understand," I confessed. I might as well be honest.
Her fingers gripped the steering wheel. "You are intimidating!"
My mouth fell open.
She continued, "You're so smart and you don't act like a teenager. You feel more like an undercover teacher than a kid sometimes. And you and Michael always seem to have it figured out together. There was never any room for anyone else in it. Then Bran showed up and suddenly there seemed like room. I really really like Michael. I've never had a guy who just wanted to spend time with me and didn't automatically try to get into my pants. I thought it was romantic at first, like it was a sign he respects me as a person."
"He does," I said, without any certainty of where this conversation was headed.
She gave a faint smile and a slight nod but kept her eyes on the road. "I know."
I was failing to see the problem but it was becoming more and more obvious that there was one. This was worse than the awkward Hell I had imagined for this trip. Could I survive a leap from a moving jaguar?
"You love Bran, right?" she asked.
Despite the fact that I couldn't see how that was her business, I answered, "More than my own life."
She nodded. "I figured."
"Maria, I don't get what you are trying to tell me."
She pressed her lips together and said nothing at first. She pulled into the mall parking lot and into a stall. She kept her hand on the gear shift after putting it into park.
"Michael doesn't love me," she said, staring at her hand on the gear shift.
I had no idea what to say to this.
"I wish he did," she went on. "I even think on some level he wishes he did but there is a problem between us that won't go away."
I was starting to get the feeling of the problem and that it was sitting in her passenger seat. I considered opening the door and running. The brief fantasy was banished by her sigh.
"Please don't get me wrong," she said. "I don't blame you. I did for a while. I was so completely jealous of you, but I see you with Bran and I know it isn't your fault. You and Michael have been friends for a long time. I think so long that he hasn't figured out how to live without you. At first I thought he would only need time but with time, I only see that he doesn't want to live without you either." She looked into my eyes. Hers were wet. "I thought you should know." She closed her eyes. "No, that's a lie. I want that to be the reason. I wish I were that noble. I'm not. If I'm honest with myself, I'm trying to punish you." She let her head fall back against the head rest. "I wish I were the person Michael sees. I want to be someone who can be that smart and funny and decent but I don't even have a clue how without him showing me the way."
I said nothing. What could I say? I didn't e
ven know how I felt about any of it, let alone what she needed to hear. Instead, I just swallowed and stared at my knees.
She turned her head and stared out the window. "Maybe a part of me hopes you'll tell Michael what I just said and he'll fix everything." She gave a wavering chuckle. "He deserves better than that. Lucina... please don't tell him anything. Best friends or not, he deserves to have me be upfront with him."
"So you're going to dump him?" I asked. I winced at how accusatory the question sounded. I hadn't meant it that way. I was just trying to understand what she was getting at.
She looked at me and shook her head. "I hope I don't have to, but I'm glad I was able to tell you all of this. I think just doing that has made me realize I need to tell him and given me the strength to do it. I'm sorry to unload on you. You don't deserve it."
I was feeling pretty stupid. I wasn't really sure what had just been unloaded. I definitely did not have everything figured out.
She looked out the window again. "We should go inside." Her voice was no longer soft or unsure but matter-of-fact. "There's some weird guy in a van over there eying us."
I followed her gaze. Parked several stalls over from us was a white commercial van. I squinted to see the guy behind the wheel. His face was in shadow but the way his blond hair fell around his face was familiar. I swallowed hard as I realized where I had seen him before.
"I recognize him," I said, recalling my walk home alone from a long ago practice. There was someone else stalking me? I tried to slow my breathing. How much worse was this going to get? And who the heck was this guy. "You're right," I added. "We should go inside. He's probably a sex offender or something."
My lunch nearly made a reappearance at the thought. We got out of the car and power walked into the mall. Being surrounded by crowds made me feel better, a little.
We walked the halls of lit store windows and clothing racks. Maria pulled me into a few shops and held up dresses against me before shaking her head and putting them back. She at least was trying to be helpful. She really wasn't so bad.
Nothing we found struck me as interesting. One window had a purple gown I liked and Maria insisted it would look great on me but it was way too much money and far too much out of my dismal price range. She offered to help but it felt wrong to take her money so I politely declined.
My budget relegated me to the clearance racks of the trendy shops. Given how much junk there was to sift through, Maria and I split up. She headed to the back of the store while I looked through a rack outside the door.
"Lucina!"
I looked up. Mr. Roghan was headed towards me. There was a broad smile on his face. It was too late to pretend I had not seen him so I gave a feeble wave back before burying my nose in the clothing rack again. I had almost finished it but pretended I was interested in a hideous zebra-print sheath to avoid looking up again.
"Nice to see you," he said from the other side of the rack.
I muttered a hello.
My lack of enthusiasm bounced off him. "Nice to see the students get to have some down time too," he said.
I muttered agreement.
He stepped closer. He was only two feet away but he leaned in. "You don't remember me do you?"
Was he really going to lay it all out in the middle of a mall? My heart skipped several beats, stumbled, and skipped several more. I should have let Bran come. I was stupid to assume I could do anything without him when Mr. Roghan was around. And how much longer could I pretend this zebra mess was interesting?
"Should I?" I asked, pretending to be ignorant and refusing to look up from the horror in my hands.
He smiled to himself before shaking his head as if to clear it. 'No, of course not. It was a very long time ago. You were so young then." Almost as an afterthought, he asked, "How is your mother? Well?"
"You're Alistair?" I asked. I looked up at him and our eyes locked. Everything I knew of sanity left me.
The eyes staring back at me were not ones that made me want to run. They were eyes I had seen before on a shadowed face in a dank tunnel as he made a vow to protect me even if he had to beg the gods for immortality. They were the eyes of a man I had adored with no doubts or reservations.
It hadn't been Bran.
He grinned back. "I guess she mentioned me. I should take you both to dinner sometime. I haven't seen you since you were a baby."
I had no idea what to say. My mother's friend was also someone from Bran's past, from my past. All I could do was stuff the zebra print back into the line of dresses and move to the next. My fingers trembled as I tried to grasp the fabric.
The gnawing inside me wanted me to attack him. Everything else inside me wanted to confess my memories and that those memories had brought with them what I had felt—or thought I felt—about him.
Perhaps he took my confused silence as a slight, for he looked around before saying, "Well, I should probably go, but it was nice seeing you. I hope you have a good weekend, Ilia."
We both knew why he had called me Ilia but he still apologized before correcting himself. "Sorry, Lucina, too many students to remember in my old age. Hope you never get memory problems like that." He let a full smile break through before walking off.
Memory problems. I took a step forward to follow him.
"I've found it!" Maria shouted, walking out to me with a long, white dress in hand. "I know this one will be perfect on you for sure and it's on sale!"
It pulled up to a thick strap on one shoulder where it was secured by a tuft of white feathers. She had no idea how fitting it was given Bran's nickname for me. She pushed me back into the store and to the dressing rooms. I looked at the long white dress even as I tried to digest what had just happened. What the hell was going on? I collapsed onto the dressing room bench. Alistair had vowed to protect me from a man who chased me. If he was not the one chasing me...
"Hurry up! I want to see!" Maria pressed excitedly. Fashion must have been her narcotic.
With shaking fingers, I pulled the flowing sheath over my head. The silky fabric skimmed my body, clinging in all the right places. I looked like I actually had a figure. I might even have felt confident about it any other time.
"Let me see!" Maria insisted again.
I opened the door. Her eyes flew right to the dress. "I knew it!" She said. "It's perfect! Bran is going to lose his mind."
I choked on a sob and wiped my eyes. The smile disappeared from her face. She had an arm around me a moment later, rubbing my back, and trying to get a good look at my face. "What's wrong?"
I couldn't stop. I had no choice. I had to lean on her for support as I continued to cry.
It was another twenty minutes before I had calmed down enough to change back into my clothes and pay for the dress. It was another ten before I had Maria convinced she could leave me alone and go home.
I needed to be alone but when I was, I shook. Bran was everything to me. I couldn't be without him but Alistair Roghan wanted me to be. And for some reason, I had adored him for it. Why?
I didn't know what I felt anymore. Why had I run from Bran? Why had I loved Alistair? I didn't know who to trust or fear. Was it Bran, Alistair, the strange man in the van?
I walked outside and stopped. Bran was leaning against his car with his back to me. I wanted to go back inside and hide. If I never looked at Bran or Alistair again, life could be normal and easy. The fact that my face still felt swollen and hot were a reminder I wasn't ready to face this. I stayed where I was. I couldn't live without Bran.
He was talking to three very rough looking guys. As if I had not been shocked enough, I dropped my bag at the sight of the tallest. He had long blond hair that fell on either side of his face. His arms were crossed in front of his chest and the bulge in his biceps were evident even through his coat. He was the man who had followed me, the man from the van.
If he had not been enough to frighten me, his friends would have. Next to him was a lanky, pock-marked man with short, greasy, brown hair. He looked li
ke he had spent far too many years doing drugs that would have killed a normal person in weeks. On the other side, standing in the largest man's shadow, was another man I recognized, the one I had seen during my first practice alone. He was short with a face as round as the rest of him but he didn't look like some basement shut-in. He looked more like a tank. His forearms were defined with muscle; muscle that just happened to be as thick around as my waist. I could see the tip of a knotwork tattoo peeking above his collar.
The blond man looked over at me as if he knew I had been watching them. He jutted his chin in my direction and Bran turned around. He was not smiling but beckoned me over. I reconsidered going back inside or running, running forever. What good would it do? I picked up my bag and walked forward to join them.
The three men were even more intimidating up close. The blond had something strange about his eyes. Not only were the irises completely different colours, one amber and the other blue, but even his pupils didn't match. The amber eye had a rectangular pupil and the blue a narrow slit. This was a man I was sure had starred in a few nightmares.
"Glad you're here, Dove," Bran said, taking me into an embrace. He added, "I'm getting hungry."
The animal in me leapt at his touch. It did not matter what my thoughts were or how scared I was, his touch felt right. It felt perfect and the shrieks inside me were excited and welcoming. I forced myself to focus on the situation at hand. My eyes fell on the tallest man again. His jaw was taught.
"Going to introduce me?" I asked.
Bran kept one arm around my shoulders as he turned back to the three gathered around us. He hesitated a moment before gesturing to them in turn. The biggest was Graham; the thinnest, Connor; and the roundest, James. "They're some guys from my old neighbourhood," he said.
The three did not say anything, preferring only to look back at me. I accepted their silence with my own.
"We've got dinner plans," Bran announced, opening an escape hatch from the awkwardness. "See you guys later."
Graham grunted before Bran led me to the passenger side of his car. As he held open the door, I hesitated. I had never been so unsure about getting into his car. I silently berated myself. This was exactly what Bran had been worried about happening, me being unfairly turned against him. He had never hurt me. We were destined to be together. I slipped into the passenger seat.
"Odd friends of yours," I said as Bran got behind the wheel.
He grunted. "They aren't friends. I'm not fond of them at all but they do small favours for me."
"Morrigan type favours?" I twisted my fingers in my lap.
He looked at me with a smirk. "Three guys like that? What other kind of favours could they do?"
I counted on my fingers one by one. "Drug dealing, kidnapping, thieving..."
He chortled and nodded. "Yup, they've done all that for Morrigan too." He looked down at my bag. "Success then?" he asked.
I debated letting him change the subject so quickly. What favours were the three monsters doing for him this time? Did it have anything to do with Alistair showing up? Or Bran's real motives. No, Bran was not my enemy. He was my world. But what the hell was going on? I decided to stew for a bit as I considered exactly what to ask. So instead, I played along. "Yeah, Maria's genius obviously lies in fashion. But you don't get to see it yet."
He smiled at me. "Tease."
"You bet." I didn't feel the playfulness I was portraying. Part of me wanted to pretend the meeting in the mall hadn't happened. As complicated as life had seemed that morning, it was a labyrinth of razor wire now.
"You alright, dove?" Bran asked, resting his hand on my knee.
The gnawing stirred. God, how I wanted that hand to go higher. There was no way he was the one I ran from. No way, yet it seemed I had. I could not endure that again. It did not matter how I had felt about Alistair long ago. Even then it had been nothing to what I felt with Bran. I could not lose my Bran, not again. I made my decision.
"Alistair, Mr. Roghan, found me in the mall. Why didn't you tell me they were the same person?"
His face darkened. "I wasn't sure until today. Alistair isn't exactly an obscure name. It was possible the name was a coincidence and I didn't want to jump to any conclusions." He glanced over at me. "What did he do?" The husky burr was strong in his voice. I could see the Scottish warrior suiting up for battle behind his eyes.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "He just talked to me as if we were a normal teacher and student. But then... he called me Ilia."
"Your old name from the life you met him," he needlessly explained. "But you don't have to worry about him now. We are already together and you know the truth." He took his eyes off the road long enough to look me in the eyes. The warrior and the inferno fought behind his swirling depths. "You know I would never hurt you because I live to protect you."
Everyone seemed to say that, but which one meant it?
He caressed my cheek and I melted against his touch. "If I ever hurt you," he continued, "I would be the first to tell you to run as fast as you can, but it has not and will not happen, no matter what anyone says. I would use Morrigan's blade to end my own life if I ever thought I were a threat to you."
We pulled into the restaurant parking lot. I said nothing and did not move as he turned off the car. I wanted to believe him. The animal insisted I believe him, but the memory of Alistair's vow was too strong for me to ignore so easily. I hated him for coming back into my life. I hated that just his presence had ruined everything.
Bran got out of the car. Opening my door, he offered his hand. I looked up at him. He was perfect, like a god, not just some former mortal. I couldn't run from him. The internal flames would consume me whole if I tried. I would fail.
I took his hand. With his immense strength, he pulled me against him and looked down into my eyes. He tucked my hair behind my ear, his fingertips tickling my neck. "I love you, dove. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise... To the end of my life." His eyes were intense. The warrior was framed in the inferno and neither would be quelled. Excitement shot through my chest and I unthinkingly pressed more firmly into him. My deepest desires came true with him.
"And beyond the end of mine."
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