Rush (Roam Series, Book Four)

by Kimberly Adams

  The coordinates. I tried my best to nonchalantly push my sleeves up, revealing my blank skin. “I’m sorry, I don’t know who that is.”

  “Wait, I have a photo.” He pressed a couple buttons on his phone before holding the screen up. Roam’s Princeton ID photo filled the screen.

  Oh my God.

  Think. Fast. “Hmn. She looks familiar… I may have gone to school with her.”

  “She went to Madison High School,” he encouraged. “This is listed as her last known address.” His deep voice prodded me to go on.

  “Why are you looking for her?” I asked, now fully in the doorway. I knew West kept a gun in the cabinet above the refrigerator, but I wasn’t tall enough to get to it without a chair.

  “Her brother is a friend of mine.”

  My eyes must have screamed Roam doesn’t have a brother. His lips clamped together as I tried to slam the door.

  “Wait.” His palm slapped the wood as his foot lodged in the doorway. I cursed myself for even opening the door.

  “Get out of here.”

  “I’m not tryin’ to hurt her.” His accent grew thicker with agitation.

  “Then what do you want with her?”

  He continued to prop the door open with his booted foot, and he pulled his sunglasses away once more. “I’m tryin’ to save her life.”

  I stared in his blue eyes, close enough now to see the flecks of green around the pupils. Exactly like Logan’s in 1955. “All the ‘handsome hero’ positions have been filled. Walk away.”

  “I think,” he began as his eyes swept over me, and when they finally reached my face again, an amused grin touched his lips. “That you’re just like me.”

  “I’m going to call the police if you don’t get off this porch, get into your little car, and drive.”

  “What’s your name?” His southern accent was disarming, but I managed to keep my guard firmly in place.

  “None of your goddamn business.”

  “Okay.” His eyes surveyed the empty living room behind me, and I pushed at the door again, growling as he held it steadily open. “You have kids?”

  The toys in the living room. I thought of my little sister and infant brother, anger detonating deep in my chest. “No.”

  “Are you an immortal?”

  My jaw went slack, and my mouth dried up like the Sahara. He pushed the door again, and this time it gave way into the living room.

  “Are you?”

  “Let’s just assume we’re both immortal. You can’t kill me, I can’t kill you. I have no intention of hurtin’ you. I just need some answers.”

  I tightened the sweater around my waist, wishing West had stayed one more day but so thankful that the children were safe. “What do you want to know?”

  I should be afraid of him. Why am I not? He looked so much like the man I’d fallen in love with at the cottage in 1955 that I could barely pull my eyes off of his face. He sighed deeply, gesturing to the kitchen. “Can I have a cup of coffee?”

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I gaped at him. “No, asshole. Ask your questions and get the hell out of here.”

  His lips curled into a grin, and he actually laughed. “Charming.” He gestured to the kitchen chair, and I waived at it sarcastically. Have a seat, threatening stranger who just forced entry into my home. When his eyes moved to the mantle over the fireplace, my chest fell.

  Their pictures.

  “He found her.” Cole stood, walking to the fireplace. I backed to the refrigerator, knowing Eva’s stool would give me just enough height to get to the gun. “And they have a girl… and a boy?”

  “What do you know?” I demanded, watching him reach for their wedding picture.

  “I know that if he found her, and they’ve touched, then her life is in danger.”

  My phone began ringing from the back porch, and I broke into a run. Panicked, I glanced over my shoulder, relieved to find him ignoring me and standing at the fireplace. My thumb fumbled with the touch screen. West.

  “Dad?”

  Christopher’s cries in the background filled my ears. “Hey Vi- just wanted to let you know that we-”

  “Daddy, listen to me,” I backed toward the pool as Cole made his way to where I stood on the porch.

  Daddy. He knew I never called him that in my entire life. His tone completely changed. “Is someone there?”

  “How was your drive?”

  They flew.

  “Say goodbye.” Cole whispered. He held no weapons in his hands, but the threat in his eyes was enough for me to nod, my hands shaking.

  “I have to run. Love you.” I disconnected.

  “Who is your father? Is it West?” he demanded.

  “Are you… from the castle? Are you an… Alter?”

  He gave a knowing look, and I noticed a dark tattoo starting at the base of his neck and disappearing into his long sleeved, black motorcycle jacket. “Well, we’re on the same page now. Let’s be candid, okay?” He pointed to the chair I’d been drinking my coffee in. “I told you I won’t hurt you, and I can’t kill you. So relax.”

  “What do you know, and why have you come here?” I asked, lowering to the chair as though there was a steel rod attached to my spine.

  His dark hair fell over his forehead in the wind, messy in the breeze coming in from the woods. “First- how old are you?” he asked me.

  “Twenty.”

  He dropped into the chair across from me, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “What year were you born?” he fired, as though I was playing some kind of game with him.

  “1995.”

  Unsmiling, he did another head-to-toe assessment on me, and I tightened the grip on my sweater. “You haven’t finished agin’ yet.”

  “When were you born?”

  “1943.”

  My conversation with West in the kitchen after we returned from 1955 suddenly played through my mind, and I widened my eyes. “Is West your father?”

  “No.” He lifted his left wrist, glancing at his rugged watch. “You know about the prophecy. Then you know about the evil ones- the Alters?”

  Ones. Plural. “Are you talking about Troy?”

  “And his brother.”

  My stomach churned; my face hardened into a severe scowl. “I know about them. But you’re late- Troy is dead. Chopped up into little pieces in the ocean. He can’t hurt Roam.”

  “And his brother?” The recognition in my eyes must have been a dead giveaway. He leaned forward, and I automatically pressed back into my chair. “You have no idea what the other one can do- or will do. I need to find him. Before he hurts- or kills- Roam and her children.”

  “West will protect them,” I argued, comprehension sending tremors into my hands.

  Logan… my God, he’s hunting Logan.

  “He’s failed before. Do you know what will happen to this world if he fails now?”

  “You’re out of your league, Cole.” I found my backbone, watching my phone light up and ring. JASON.

  Thank you, West.

  “Who’s Jason?”

  “He’s on his way here right now. With the police.”

  Cole slid his chair back and stood, retrieving his car keys from his pocket. “Well, then, I guess our conversation is over- for now.”

  “If you ever come back here, my fiancé- or my father- will not be so kind.” I raised my eyebrows haughtily, fire in my eyes. “But if I were you, the one I’d watch out for is Roam.”

  He glanced again at the fireplace. “Roam?”

  I heard distant sirens, fueling my courage. “Who do you think killed Troy?”

  He stared at me as if considering, and then finally pressed the screen on his phone. He held the device up so I could see.

  Bile burned the back of my throat as my stomach lurched. Annie- Roam- lay covered in black-and-white blood in the middle of a parking lot, her rounded belly telling me that Eva was still inside of her.

  Next to her, the Logan of 1955 was missing half of his forehead.<
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  “That is… oh God, disgusting…”

  “I watched him kill her. In cold blood. He shot West too, but West got up and ran before the police arrived.”

  “You were there?”

  “I was twelve years old. Hidin’ and watchin’ the whole thing happen. And I knew him better than anyone… or thought that I did. He was kind. But in the end… he still killed them.”

  “No,” I breathed, unable to stop my mind from crawling back down the basement steps. Logan’s super-human strength as I clawed at his wrists… my panic as he squeezed my throat…

  “He will kill her- and her children,” he added as I covered my mouth, tears burning my eyes.

  He heard the sirens now. I gasped as he rushed at me, his face only inches from mine. “Do you know where he is? The Alter?”

  “Get away from me!”

  “You do,” he nodded, catching my chin in his hand. “You’re protecting him for some reason.”

  I moved to knee him in the groin, but he backed up just in time. “We’re not finished talking.”

  The siren grew louder, and he leapt over the railing of the porch, heading around the back to the driveway. I heard him peel out onto the road seconds later.

  Jason pulled into the driveway right behind the police car, and I ran to him as he threw open his car door. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

  “I’m fine.” I tried to force a smile at the officer climbing out of his car. “I’m really fine. I thought there was someone in the house… but it was just my imagination. I’m not used to the quiet.”

  The officer spoke into his radio calmly, and then gestured toward the house. “I’d like to walk through, Miss.”

  “Please.” I gestured to the front door, turning back to Jason. He offered a reassuring hug.

  “West is already arranging a flight home-”

  “No! Please tell him to stay,” I cried. “I’m flying to them.” Jason’s deep, brown eyes darkened.

  “Was someone here?”

  “Yes,” I hushed, under my breath. “He knew about the prophecy. I’ll talk to you when the officer’s gone.”

  His eyebrows gathered, drawing a line in his smooth, brown forehead. “Vi, are you hurt?”

  “No.” I cringed at the memory of the horrific crime-scene photos.

  “Call your dad. I’m not going back to work until I know you’re safe. I want you to go to your mom’s.”

  “Okay.”

  The officer swept the house, confirming it was empty. After gathering some information, he left, and I put West on speakerphone so Jason could hear. His frantic voice made me feel awful for worrying him the way that I did.

  “He said his name is Cole Mathison. He knows everything, and says he’s immortal- but not your son, West. He had photos- crime scene photos- from 1955. He said he was twelve years old, and he was there, and he knew Logan.”

  “He was there?” West’s voice became cool and capable, and I knew he was already planning. “Describe him.”

  “He looked like Logan. I thought he was Logan. The 1955 Logan,” I added, thinking that anyone eavesdropping on our conversation would be thoroughly confused.

  “Jason,” West’s voice evened. “Thank you for coming for her. Please give her a ride to Laurel’s.”

  “No problem. Morgan’s buzzing- I got to go talk to her.”

  “Okay.” I nodded, watching him walk along the pool with his phone.

  “Vi, he knew about the Alters, the prophecy, and Roam?”

  “Yes. He said he was here to protect Roam. Because even if Troy is dead, his brother will kill her. Logan would never hurt her, West… but now I’m scared to death that this man is after Logan.”

  “Logan can protect himself,” West assured me. “Get to your mom’s, and I’ll arrange for plane tickets. I shouldn’t have let Roam talk me into letting you stay.”

  “You can’t be everywhere at once. Your first priority is your children. Protect them.”

  He was silent for a moment.

  “Violet, you’re my daughter.”

  I nearly broke into emotional tears at the conviction in his voice. “I know… I meant Eva and Chris…”

  “The three of you. My children. I’ll never stop protecting you, not for as long as I live. Never again.”

  The guilt in his tone tore away the last bit of strength I had. I let the tears slip down my cheeks. “I love you.”

  “I love you, Vi. Hurry up and get here.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  I took my seat on the plane, pressing as close to the window as possible. I had texted West one last time before I got on the plane, assuring him that I was safe.

  Cole Mathison. I watched the sun setting, willing Logan to call me. Another immortal, but not West’s son? Troy’s, then? I shivered, twisting the beaded, blue bracelet Eva had made me around my wrist. If he’s Troy’s, he wouldn’t be immortal… here.

  Take-off was smooth, and I watched the land grow smaller beneath us. The woman on my right got up as soon as we were allowed to leave our seats.

  I closed my eyes and slipped my headphones over my hair, but before I could reach for my phone to listen to music I sensed the passenger next to me had returned.

  Flattening against the window, I nearly screamed.

  Cole swiftly removed my earbuds, tossing them into my lap. “Now, I have your undivided attention.”

  I gripped the back of the seat, ready to fight. “You know there is at least one air marshal on this plane. Get away from me now.”

  “Look, I’m on this flight, whether you like it or not. I’ve come a long way, and you’re goin’ to help me.”

  “Look, you immortal pain in the ass, this isn’t a club. Go find another freak to hang out with.”

  “Freak? You think you’re a freak?” He scoffed, stretching his legs out and crossing his arms over his chest. He needed a shave, and the scruffy shadow on his jaw was too familiar to my memory. So much like Logan’s was…

  I turned to the window, nearly crushing my earbuds in my fist.

  “When you’ve been alive as long as I have, Violet, you’ll see immortality as a responsibility, not a curse.”

  “Excuse me, would you please hand me a barf bag? Your self-righteousness has made me nauseous.” I settled back into my seat, my heart finally returning to its normal rhythm. “Wait- how did you find my name?”

  He gave me an amused once-over. “Google. Your wedding website is beautiful, by the way. Fourth of July- should be spectacular.”

  No… Logan’s picture is all over that website. “Then you saw that my fiancé is a Marine, and he won’t be okay with you stalking his future wife.”

  Cole leaned closer, and I smashed my curls against the window pane. “Corporal Logan Robert Rush. Born August 26, 1994.”

  Fucking internet. “Yes, and at the risk of setting feminism back by hundreds of years- my boyfriend will kick your ass.”

  He stared at me for a moment before laughing, “He’s a lucky guy,” he said wryly, his eyes scraping over me. “Does he know you’re immortal?”

  I raised an eyebrow, daring to lean an inch closer to him. What’s he going to do to you? You’re in the middle of the air, and you’re immortal. Challenge him. Figure out what he wants.

  “Yes, he does.”

  Cole processed my words, and I kept his even stare. “Does he know about the prophecy?”

  “Yes.” I glared at him. “So you’re following me to Roam and West. Because you have some vigilante need to protect her.”

  “I am not the enemy.” He nodded toward the window. “The other one is out there, somewhere, and it looks like you’re all lettin’ your guard down. That’s when he’ll find her- and the kids.”

  “Apparently, you haven’t met my father. I guarantee you won’t get out of the Jacksonville airport.”

  “Well, we have about forty-five minutes until then. I think you know who the Alter is, and you’re goin’ to tell me before we get off this plane.”


  I kept my overconfident expression. “Yes, I know who it is, but he won’t hurt her. Or the children.”

  He stared at me evenly before finally sighing and turning to look straight ahead. “You really think he’s incapable of hurtin’ you?”

  I lowered my eyes to Eva’s bracelet. Cole followed my gaze.

  “You’re protectin’ something that you can’t understand,” he continued. “The dreams are delusions. They fuck with his mind. He’ll betray you. He’ll hurt you all, and he’ll ultimately end this world. I can’t let that happen.”

  Narrowing my eyes, I took a steadying breath. “Who are you? I know that immortal men breed immortal children, and if West isn’t your father, then it must be Troy.”

  He threw me a speculative glance. “My father is the other Alter. I thought you’d gathered that already.”

  Exhaling slowly, I searched his face again, finally piecing together what my mind was too slow to guess.

  He’s Logan’s son. Logan, of 1955.

  All of Logan’s children would be immortal… because of his immortal soul.

  “You were there when your father killed them?” I reached for my phone, my leg bobbing nervously on the seat.

  “I followed him that day. My mother begged him not to go. He’d told us about Troy, the nightmares, the coordinates… and his ‘obligation.’”

  “You watched him die.” I pulled up West’s last text, trying to type without looking at the screen.

  “I watched him murder Anastasia Perry while she was nine months pregnant, and then her husband. The owner of the gas station came out and shot him before he could turn the gun on himself.”

  The photos. I cringed, the crime scene flashing through my thoughts. “And you knew he’d be born again.”

  He turned his left arm upward, and I focused on the tattoo on his skin. Exactly where the coordinates appear. The numbers were smaller, but looked familiar. “I had this done so that no matter how many years passed, I’d never forget that day. North Carolina.” He gestured to the location on his arm.

  “Wow. Dramatic. Do you also journal about your tortured existence?”

  His eyes snapped to me as I finished my text to West. The words were ready to be sent as soon as we landed.

  He’s on the plane.

  “This is a joke to you?” he demanded.